


Side By Side

by phoenixburncold



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Castiel's Wings, Dream World, Dreams, First Kiss, Flying, Guilt, Healing, I'll get there eventually, Kidnapped, Learning to Fly, Love, M/M, Memories, Nightmares, Oil kink, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Regrets, Sassy, Sastiel - Freeform, Self-Loathing, Sleepy time, Support, Trust, Wing Kink, Wing Oil, Winged Sam Winchester, Wings, and many other kisses, completed work, finished work, growing relationship, hesitant, long story, shared character archs, side by side, soul wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-04-09 14:54:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 30,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4353218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixburncold/pseuds/phoenixburncold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's soul sprouts wings from his mortal body - outing the Winchester's true feelings for Castiel. But will Castiel just be another being Sam will fail, or worse, take advantage of him again as he and so many before him have done?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This is gonna be long. But I think it'll be beautiful if I can get it all out.
> 
> The reason for the E rating in chapters 16 and 24.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edited

Dean groaned softly, trying to go back to sleep. He knew he hadn’t gotten his full four hours, and he intended to get the last hour or so in. Something had woken him and as he tried to slip back into the darkness of sleep something tickled his arm. Absentmindedly, Dean shifted to move the loose jacket string or whatever it was brushing against the skin of his arm. When his fingers touched something unfamiliar he was fully awake. 

“What the holy hell?!” Dean cried out, throwing himself out of bed. He pressed himself flat against the wall of the motel room, staring at his brother. While the lights were off in the room, the moon was hidden under the clouds, and the streetlight closest to the motel was busted, the room was lit enough for Dean to see just what had brushed against his arm. 

Dean’s shout startled Sam awake, who immediately sat up. “Dean, what is it?” he said before feeling the heavy weight tugging on his back…and further…and why was it so bright in – ? Sam gave an alarmed shout before falling out of the bed and into the corner.

 _WING._ That was all Sam could process as he looked at the glowing feathers spread on the ground. The wing had moved with Sam, part of it now on the bed. Something pained him on his other side. He turned to see the other wing scrunched against the wall. “What the hell?!” Sam shouted. The two wings flicked up, breaking the light above them and making a large slash in the ceiling. Pain split Sam’s head as the glass cut the right wing. Instinctively the wings flapped, as if to pull Sam away from the area. All that accomplished was a series of new pains as the wings thrashed into the walls and ceiling. Gashes appeared wherever the edge of the wings landed. Both beds now had shredded sheets and the two walls and ceiling were getting slashed, the gashes getting deeper at each stroke.

“Woah, hey!” Dean shouted from his place against the wall. He had about six inches of space between the edge of the wings but he kept flat against the wall. “Sammy calm down!” He didn’t dare move closer, seeing the damage the wings created to things much thicker than his skin.

Sam, still understandably freaked out, continued to flap, letting out noises of distress that were almost covered up by the loud noise of the two giant wings flailing. 

“Sam, dude chill,” yelled Dean, throwing on his big brother voice. But Sam was too consumed by terror to really register anything but the emotion and the pain that came from two new appendages. “CASS!” Dean shouted over the noise, calling out the only name he knew could maybe give help.

“Sam.”

It was Castiel’s voice, soft but powerful. Sam instantly froze – the very picture of a panicked bird. His bare chest heaved and he looked frantically between his left wing and Castiel. The angel strode forward, eyes only for Sam. “How did this happen?” he asked. Sam shook his head, unable to speak.

“I just woke up to his freakin' feathers on my arm,” Dean said, peeling himself off the wall now that the wings had stopped slicing up the room.

Castiel repaired the room and all the lights in the room flicked on. The angel reached out a hand, feeling the energy around Sam. He frowned, familiar creases in his forehead appearing and his eyes squinting. While Cass did his angel thing, Dean got close to Sam, gripping his shoulders gently as he crouched in front of Sam. Sam’s wide eyes peered at his older brother, latching onto his familiar face. “Dean,” Sam managed. 

“I got ya,” Dean said soothing, careful to keep his hands on Sam’s shoulders, away from the wings. “Just breathe little brother.” Sam nodded, trusting the two beings in the room with his life and soul – just as he had for so many years. Now that Sam was mostly still, Dean could take a real look at the two large wings that sprouted from his brother’s back. They were two feet longer than Sam was tall and about three feet wide. Downy merged into small feathers which merged and layered into bigger feathers. Dean winced slightly looking at them – they glowed about four different shades of yellow and white even under the lights in the room. There were also gashes of red where the glass from the light had cut into the wings. They looked like the wings of a large bird only they were firmly set in Sam’s back.

Gently, Dean shifted Sam away from the wall to look at his back. The skin from the top of Sam’s shoulder blades to a few inches above his waist about an inch away from Sam’s spine bled where the skin had been torn apart, the red oozing onto gold and white feathers. He bled sluggishly and there were parts that had already clotted up so Dean wasn’t worried about Sam bleeding out. He was far more worried about the wings that had suddenly sprout on his brother’s back, and the fact that Sam had buried his head in the crook of Dean’s neck his whole body shaking. Sam hadn't done that in years. Like twenty plus years. Dean twisted his head and shifted slightly to look up at the angel, still crouching next to Sam. “Cass, what the hell?”

The standing angel blinked slowly before turning his gaze to Dean. “Your brother has sprouted wings.”

_**If looks could kill.** _

If Sam hadn’t been so distraught Dean would have stood and slugged the angel right then, steel head or not. “I noticed,” Dean spat. “How did he manage to do that?!” 

“I don’t know,” Castiel replied. “But they are his,” he added.

“What the hell does that mean?” snapped Dean.

Castiel sighed and Dean was sure the angel did **NOT** just roll his eyes at him. “When a soul returns to Heaven, sometimes there is an excess of the soul that will manifest as wings if the soul so wishes. While I do not know how, Sam’s soul has grown wings through his mortal body.”

Dean flicked his eyes up and side to side as he did when he was processing something truly over his head. “So,” he said after a few seconds, focusing back on Castiel’s blue eyes, “Sam’s soul is now wings?”

“The excess of his soul, yes. The majority of Sam’s soul is still within his body,” Castiel said, seeing the flash of panic in Dean’s eyes. “But the extra part of his soul has prematurely sprouted wings in his flesh.”

Sam lifted his head from Dean to look the angel in the eyes. A thousand questions spun in his head and scrambled into a tangled mess. He managed to ask one that was simple enough. “Why?”

Castiel shook his head again. “I don’t know. Whoever or whatever did it left no trace behind.”

Sam nodded, gathering himself together again. His momentary lapse to a much younger age was gone; he was an adult who shouldn’t be burying himself in his older brother for security. Dean felt the shift and stood after a glance at Sam to make sure he was alright. He offered Sam a hand and the taller Winchester took it, standing well above the other two in the room.

They all shifted, moving to the middle of the room so Sam could spread his wings fully without getting too cramped. Silence lay heavy in the room. Needing to lighten the mood, or perhaps just say something, _anything_ Dean said, “Well Sammy, you’ve got a nice, glow-y, soul...feathers...wings,” he finished weakly.

Sam truly looked at his wings. They were rather dazzling. Not fluffy white things the pictures of angel wings showed, these were vibrant, useful wings that had a sense of reality that almost broke Sam again. But he had been through much worse - Hell came to mind before he banished it away. Sam silently ordered one to shift and it obeyed like his arm, even bending at an angle like an elbow. But both wings were beginning to move on their own, stretching for Castiel, twisting up slightly.

“Sam,” Castiel spoke. Sam realized Castiel had been staring rather intensely at him since he reemerged from Dean’s shoulder.

“Yea?” Sam asked after a few seconds had passed in silence.

“May…may I touch them?”

Sam nodded and they spread out a little more at his command, although they did this weird tilt thing so the soft spots were bared.

Castiel reached out a hand and took three steps forward. He would have been in Sam’s personal space if the taller Winchester had such a thing. A lifetime of road trips next to Dean and his own personality had reduced it to nothing. The angel stretched out his hand toward Sam’s wing, got within an inch of it and hesitated for a long moment. He noticed the curl of the wing and tried not to think about what it meant. Surely it was just for security, after all Castiel knew the most about wings; surely Sam's soul was merely reacting to the nearest creature with wings, and Sam himself was tilting the wings so Castiel could see all of them. Satisfied in his rationing, he gently plunged his hand in the exposed down close to Sam’s skin.

Sam let out an almost moan, his eyes closed. As Dean watched, Castiel gently dug his fingers deeper into the down of the wing. Castiel healed the cuts from the glass shards, hand glowing blue-white a moment, almost buried in Sam's wing. Sam’s knees almost gave out as the new sensation shattered through his brain. Dean’s eyes widened as the wings curled toward Castiel, the colors brightening the room even more. The lights flickered around them.

Castiel shifted his delicate fingers across Sam’s wing, moving from down to the smaller feathers and out to the larger ones. He had to make sure they were real, not an illusion. Blood beat under the skin, they were warm to the touch, they were real. Sam made a series of noises and Dean saw his entire body shudder from wingtip to bare toes.

Suddenly Dean felt extremely uncomfortable. He knew from past experience wings were sensitive to the touch, but Sam looked...well let's just say Dean had caught his brother doing many things in their lives together and that was a particular face Sam was pulling there.

Castiel was fascinated by the living wings. Never before had a soul burst wings through it's mortal shell. The feathers were sturdy and flashed with specks of the soul. He tried, one last time, to see if whatever had made the wings burst through but again failed. It was as if Sam's soul had just spontaneously done this miraculous thing. 

Sam panted lightly as Castiel’s fingers threw him into a storm of sensations. Pain but the kind that was almost pleasurable as he carded through the feathers, fire when he moved against the grain of the feathers, overwhelming when Castiel dove both hands into the wing; Sam’s brain was lighting up like the sky on the 4th of July. He dug his toes into the carpet, trying to ground himself. He had no control over the wings as they shuddered and twisted up and forward. Sam felt like he was baring his neck to the angel in some slutty way but all control was lost with them now and the thought was lost among the sensations.

Castiel heard Sam make a deep noise at the back of his throat and blinked, pulling himself out of his thoughts to look at the man. He was shaking... 

Suddenly Castiel felt horrible. He had forgotten just how sensitive new wings were, forgotten that while in Heaven a simple passing of the hand on a wing was about as powerful as a light brush, on Earth it would be much stronger...much deeper... and could be suggested sexual. Castiel almost felt sick realizing what he had just put Sam through.

“I’m sorry.”

Sam opened his eyes in a flash. It was as if his brain went from Las Vegas bright to a blackout in a second. Castiel had pulled his hand from Sam’s wings. To his annoyance, Sam still couldn’t reign in the wings, they continued to spread wide and twist upward. “Sorry?” Sam repeated, thoughts shifting through him as slow as syrup. He panted hard, eyes hazy.

Castiel had only eyes for Sam. “I shouldn’t have done that to you,” the angel said softly, backing away several feet away from the taller Winchester, hands at his sides.

“What the hell was that?”

While Sam may still be recovering, Dean had merely witnessed and was in his right mind. Castiel dragged his gaze off Sam to look at Dean’s hard face. He was the picture of reigned anger mixed with confusion, eyes glaring, arms crossed at his chest, pressing so hard his shirt was wrinkling. For one of the few times in Castiel’s long life he was embarrassed. “New wings are very sensitive to touch,” Castiel said, broadly answering Dean’s question, looking away.

Dean looked between his brother and the angel. Sam looked wrecked and Castiel’s glance was shifting all over the place. Even if older Winchester ignored the stretch of his brother’s jeans in a certain area, the whole thing stank and he knew just what it smelled like. “You just _felt up_ my brother. Right in front of me.”

Castiel’s eyes would not stop moving, looking at anything but Dean. There had been many things that had gone on between hunter and angel. Dean knew Castiel as well as his brother by now. He also knew what touching wings did, his past experience with Cass more than enough. 

_“Dude,”_ breathed Dean with a mixture surprise and disgust. 

Sam took a deeper breath, blinking rapidly as he struggled to connect the words he was hearing with meaning. Echoes of the sensations sparked in his head and it was all he could do just to listen.

“Get the hell outta here,” Dean snapped, launching forward and gripping Castiel's collar tight. “I’m not having you do that to Sam. Look at him, he’s still reeling.” Dean was truly struggling now not to slug the angel and instead he just shook, rage in his very core. He had seen Castiel take advantage his brother and he wasn't having **any** of that. He may have had his own feelings for Castiel but that was over...and it certainly didn't give the angel the right to cop a feel with Sam.

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said again, looking at the floor. Dean had every right to be angry, and when Sam realized what he had done, surely the taller hunter would be just as angry. A silent conversation passed between hunter and angel, past memories and angry words flashing in both their minds. Castiel's shoulders slumped in Dean's grasp. He flicked his own wings - hidden in the space unseen by mortals - open as he looked away from Dean.

Finally Sam managed to regain something close to his normal functions. Maybe it was his new wings or just knowing the angel as well as he did, but he called out, “Wait!” just before the angel flew away. Castiel and Dean both looked up at Sam. Opening his mouth to speak again, Sam let out a sigh of annoyance. His wings were still wide and curling. Sam growled at them, tugging the left one with both hands, folding it against his back. When he got it there and turned to the other wing, it flicked open again.

“Stay,” Sam said to the angel, ignoring his wings for the moment. “I don’t want to be left with just Dean right now.” He shot Dean a glance. “No offense, but you don’t have wings.” Dean couldn’t argue with that. Then Sam looked fully at Dean, seeing the angel still in his grasp, the collar of the shirt and coat in his fists. "Dean let him go." Dean obeyed but kept a glare on Castiel. Sam growled as his wings spread even wider, angled at Castiel before looking at the angel. “Can you _please_ explain this?”

Castiel swallowed hard, looking between Sam and Dean now. “It’s…it’s uh…” Dean glared at him and somehow that helped steel the angel. “You are…the wings are… propositioning me.” 

_“What?!”_

While both Winchesters asked the same thing, Dean’s was spoken with a harsh cut while Sam sounded more like his biggest secret had been revealed. Castiel tried not to read into that, not daring to hope even after what Castiel had done to Sam his feelings were reciprocated. He swallowed again, looking between the brothers before his gaze lingered on Sam.

“Sam?” Dean asked, looking at his brother. “You really feel that way toward Cass?” Now that Castiel had labeled the action, the older Winchester could see how the wings spread wide with the softest part of the wings bared for the world to see was not unlike…well human actions Dean was very familiar with - just not from his little brother. He wondered if he had overacted with Cass. It would be hard for Dean personally if someone was silently propositioning him, especially with all the shared history between them. He had never really looked at Castiel wings when he had gotten the chance to see them, never truly studied their angle or silent words, too caught up in the sight or feel of them. For a brief moment he wished he had.

The panicked, half-dazed looked Sam flashed his brother spoke volumes. The wings may be new, but Dean had spent all of Sam’s life learning his faces.

“I’m out,” Dean said, unable to handle any more. He grabbed his jacket from the floor, settled his socked feet in his boots and picked up the keys to the Impala on the nightstand, shoving them in his jean pocket. In ten seconds he was gone, the door firmly shutting behind him. 

Sam blinked, looking at the door. When he turned back, Castiel was still standing several feet away, a look on his face that made Sam recall the days they had dealt with Famine, hungry and vulnerable. Sam let out a breath, trying to laugh; only it came out more like a choked sob. All those years hiding his feelings for the angel, only for apparently his very _soul_ outing him. And it seemed, at least from Castiel’s look, that the feeling had been mutual. All those years they could have done something about it, barring the time Castiel was with Dean of course…well now it was out. Sam licked his lips and realized Castiel was doing the same.

“Indeed,” Castiel said. “It is…out.” Then, suddenly, he was right in front of Sam.

“Cass,” Sam breathed.


	2. First Kiss

“Sam,” Castiel breathed. For a long moment they stared into each other eyes. Then Sam bent slightly, pressing his lips against Castiel’s capped ones. His palm cupped Castiel’s jawline, the scruff of his beard prickling. Castiel’s lips opened and Sam captured his upper lip between his. Castiel’s hand pressed against Sam’s shoulder and they moaned softly into each other’s mouths.

Sam’s wings curled forward, wrapping Castiel and himself in cocoon of feathers. Castiel growled softly, gently biting Sam’s lower lip. The air warmed around them, heavy exhales from their lips filling the intimate space.

Suddenly Sam jerked, pulling away. Castiel opened his eyes, surprised.

Flashes of Hell shattered through Sam's mind, sudden and unwanted. His wings flicked up and away, puffing as he jerked back again.

Sam jerked again, the images bleeding through consciousness, blocking out Castiel’s concerned face. Pain seared through his body. Sam squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the images and pain but unable to. Lucifer cackled in his hearing and Sam’s flesh burned. A hand seared his upper arm, it felt like the skin was peeling away from the muscles. Lucifer laughed again before calling out in his taunting voice “S-am. Sa-am. Sammy-boy.” Sam let out a soft shout, trying to drown out the voice. Lucifer slammed him against the wall, eyes piercing Sam, fire licking at his skin. Knives sheared across Sam’s back, he gave another shout.

“Sam.”

Sam opened his eyes, heaving. Castiel looked at him, concerned.

“Cass,” Sam breathed, blinking heavily. The angel’s hand was on Sam’s arm, warm but not burning as he had imagined it. Sam’s back still shot with pain though; he turned to see both his wings were crammed against the wall. Sam was sitting on the floor against the wall; his head in his hands and his toes were curled in the carpet.

Castiel leaned even closer. “Sam,” he said again, soft and worried.

Sam swallowed heavily before letting go of his head. “I’m fine,” he managed before standing. Castiel dropped his hand and Sam’s skin felt cold. His wings shuddered and Sam realized they were fluffed and raised up, reminding the hunter of the fur on a scared cat. He didn’t like how they echoed his feelings. Sam managed a weak smile, looking at Castiel. “You’re gonna have to teach me how to control these things,” he said to the angel. “I don’t want Dean to know when he’s really annoyed me.”

Castiel gave a ghost of a smile, his eyes telling Sam he knew the real reason.

For a moment they stood there in silence. Sam didn’t know how, but somehow their hands found each other. He could feel Castiel’s pulse under his fingers. It was steady, though a bit fast. He looked into Castiel’s blue eyes and was reminded of the summer skies. “Cass,” Sam said. “I’m sorry.”

The angel tilted his head slightly, making Sam’s heart quicken. He loved the little movements Castiel made, the silent questions, concerns, and emotions Sam could read like a book. “For what?” Castiel asked, giving words to his action.

“For what just happened,” Sam said throwing his head back slightly to indicate the wall he had been against moments ago. “For…for not going through with what you want to do tonight.” Sam wasn’t sure what the emotion was that flickered in Castiel’s eyes briefly. Still, he felt horrible. He also had no idea how his wings were screaming his thoughts.

Castiel saw every movement. “Sam,” he said, moving closer, his chest brushing against Sam. “It’s alright,” the angel breathed. “There’s no hurry. As you said before, we know now. We have…plenty of time.”

“Until the next end of the world,” Sam said bitterly, looking away.

“S-am,” Castiel said, putting his hand on Sam’s cheek, forcing him to look at Castiel’s eyes. “You’re mine,” the angel said. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” Cass tugged Sam’s head gently down before kissing the hunter deeply.

Sam joined the kiss before breaking from it a moment. “What about Dean?” he asked.

Castiel smiled. “I won’t let anything happen to Dean either,” he replied. They shared a smile. Cass kissed Sam again and Sam sighed softly in the kiss.


	3. Working On It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited

When Dean returned an hour later he was happily drunk after two shots of vodka, three tequila, and something called _The Inception_. He thought he remembered three glasses of different sizes with different alcohols getting dumped into a pint of beer. Really drunk for the first time since he was a demon, he leaned against the door and heard Sam shouting, “This is ridiculous!”

“You two better have your feathered asses covered,” Dean shouted before opening the door. A frustrated Sam and a patient Castiel looked at Dean. 

“We were never unclothed,” Castiel informed Dean before turning back to Sam. “You have to relax,” he said gently to Sam. 

Dean could tell his little brother was the exact opposite of relaxed, even without checking Sam’s quivering wings. “What happened, couldn’t get it up Sammy boy?” 

_**If looks could kill.** _

Sam made a fist and for a second was seriously considering punching Dean’s smug face…which was now a face of actual fear. Sam blinked before looking at himself. His wings looked twice their normal size, arching up and toward Dean threateningly. The smaller feathers had puffed up while the larger feathers were sharpened, looking more like gold and white daggers now. The ceiling and walls had gouges where the wings had touched as they moved forward to the position they were in now. If Dean was any closer he would be within reach of the razor sharp wings.

Castiel shifted around the wings, placing a hand on Sam’s shoulder. “Sam.” Castiel’s voice was soft, understanding, and demanding all at once.

Sam sighed, closing his eyes, trying to settle the wings against his back. Castiel squeezed gently, silently reassuring Sam. When Sam’s wings were back to their half-folded position they had been in when Dean had come through the door, Sam opened his eyes. “We didn’t do anything,” Sam growled at his brother. 

“Okay, okay,” Dean said, palms up. “But did you at least get to second base?”

“We didn’t play base…” Castiel started before one of the books Metatron had forced on him came to mind. The angel blushed a moment before straightening. “No.”

“Aah, rough night for us all then,” Dean slurred before sitting heavily in the nearby chair.

“Perhaps you should silent,” Castiel said, glaring at Dean, feeling Sam’s wings begin to rise and sharpen again. Castiel gripped Sam’s shoulder again, a physical display of his support. “You’ve nearly got it,” he told Sam, looking into his eyes. “But you must relax.”

“It’s hard,” Sam said, taking a breath. He closed his eyes, trying to follow Castiel’s earlier instructions, ignoring Dean's chuckle from the other side of the room. He rolled his shoulders slowly and dug his toes into the carpet – grounding himself. He pictured one of the happiest moments of his life. It was a lazy day in the Bunker, one of the first days Sam really accepted the Bunker as a home. Ice cold beer in hand, the lingering smell and taste of the burgers Dean had made on his tongue and nose, Dean by his side, laughing so hard they both had tears in their eyes.

Sam’s eyes opened in a flash at the sensation. Both wings were folded completely, settled against his back.

“There,” Castiel said with a smile.

Sam grinned back. “Thanks Cass."

The angel nodded. “I will show you how to hide them at a later time,” Castiel told him.

“Yea,” Sam said, feeling tired. “Thanks. I’ll…just wear my jacket over them.”

“Or get a trench coat,” Dean said before laughing.

Sam sighed, rolling his eyes. Castiel sighed and repaired the walls and ceiling of the room again.

All hope of sleep was now gone. Both brothers were resigned with that. So they packed up from the motel and got back to the Impala. They had finished their hunt a mere three hours ago, now they were heading back to the Bunker. The brothers were quiet for the first hour. With his wings settled behind his back Sam was able to hide them with his jacket. Castiel had said when wings were settled like that they were smaller and for that the hunter was grateful. He could never hope to hide his wings at their full length.

Sam sighed, hands wrapped around the second coffee he had bought, trying to make it last. Dean had downed his in under a minute. Black Sabbath’s "Paranoid" played loudly on the stereo. Dean passed a slow moving minivan and leaned forward, turning the radio off. “Okay,” he said, eyes still on the road. “We gonna talk about this?”

“About what?” Sam asked. There was at least two things Dean could be talking about and they were starting to cramp slightly against his back.

“About you…and Cass.”

Sam sighed before half-teasing, “I thought you didn’t like talking about feelings.”

Dean glanced at him, mouth in a straight line. “Dude normally I’d be all for you being with somebody. Especially somebody we’ve got so much history with. But this…this is…”

“Because he was yours once?” Sam snapped. He could feel the wings start to spread and sharpen and forced himself to take a long breath, settling them.

“No, Sammy,” Dean sighed. “That ship has sailed. I'm fine with you and him being together.”

“Really?” Sam asked, surprised. “I just thought...”

“Hey, if you like him, great. He's...well, he's Cass. He's a family friend...hell he practically _is_ family now.”

"Yea, I know," Sam said. "I haven't forgot that." 

Dean glanced at Sam again before sighing. “Well…good…I guess.” A pause. “Just…be careful Sam, okay? I have some experience with this...and well...it's work.”

“All relationships are work, Dean. That’s kind of the whole idea of life.”

Dean couldn’t argue with that and shrugged in agreement. “Yea, well. We don’t seem to have a good track record when it comes to falling in love.”

As soon as he said it, Dean regretted it. It hurt more than it should have. Both hunters went silent; their hearts aching. Dean flicked the radio back on, trying to drown himself in the lyrics.

When they got to the Bunker, the brothers slunk away from each other. Dean took the six pack he had bought on the last stop and headed to his room. Sam paced. Freeing his wings, he let them stretch out fully for the first time in four hours. He wondered how Castiel kept his back so much. _But then he’s got his in that invisible plane_ , Sam thought. He sighed and raked his hand through his hair.

After a few minutes Sam walked down to the garage, one hand balancing his laptop, the other holding a beer. He was looking through several open tabs, all of them on flying. He had no plan of actually flying, seeing as his wings were still doing a lot of actions without his conscious thought, but he figured he could at least do some of the basics. The new muscles needed some exercise, they ached so much they hurt. He knew the sensation – the last time his shoulder had been pulled out of place he could feel the ache of the barely used muscles even in his sleep.

Sam flicked open his wings fully again. He was pleased at least a few of his conscious commands were obeyed. Sam shifted through the open tabs on his laptop, two articles and three videos of baby birds. He played the video, watching the bird flap its wings. Carefully Sam copied the creature, flapping lightly.

Twenty minutes later Sam was in a sweat, his wings drooping as he relaxed between a set of exercises. Through videos, the articles, and his own experimentation he had come up with a workout that would work most, if not all, the new muscles his wings provided. He pushed through one last set before dropping to the ground, sitting heavily there. Dust had been kicked up from all his motions and now began to settle as he stopped for good. A few feathers had fallen from the exertion, wafting in the air before settling gently to the ground. The few cars and other vehicles sat silent as Sam’s panting echoed around the room.

Sam felt better. It was a crazy weird situation and he still couldn’t decide whether he liked it or not, but at least the ache was gone. And he was tired enough, he should be able to get some dreamless sleep in. He sighed and headed back upstairs. It was lunch time and he was starved.


	4. Memories and Nightmares

Sam heaved a sigh, punched the pillow, and readjusted the sheets around him, trying to get comfortable. He closed his eyes, heaving another sigh.

**“Why? Why me?”**

**Ruby’s eyes were almost gentle, her hands on either side of his face. “Because it had to be you, Sammy,” she said gently, stroking the side of his cheek before tugging gently on his hair with both her hands. Lilith was on the ground, her blood moving unnaturally to create a circle. He watched it moved, lines seeping from the edges, reaching for each other in the middle. Ruby kept tugging his head, forcing him to look away at what he done, forcing him to look back into her eyes, talking the whole time. “It always had to be you. You saved us. You set him free. And he's gonna be grateful. He's gonna repay you in ways that you can't even imagine.”**

**Ruby’s face morphed into Lucifer’s, his vessel burned and falling apart. “Fiddle of gold says I’m better than you.”**

**Sam glared at Lucifer. “Yes,” Sam said, frightened but knowing there was no going back.**

**The light was blinding and burning and suddenly Sam was burning. Burning cold like the dry ice he had once held on a bet for ten seconds in a high school science class. He screamed silently and suddenly there was something else with him.**

**It was as if he was inside himself, a conscious being with a physical body inside his own body. And an archangel was barreling toward him.**

**Lucifer struck him with the force of train.**

**Sam fell but stood quickly, getting in two hits before the archangel lay two fingers on his chest. Sam stopped, his very soul freezing, bound. _Lost._**

**“You lose,” Lucifer said with a grin.**

**Sam didn’t get the luxury of fading away. He didn’t get the chance to sink into unconsciousness. Whether it was Lucifer’s intention or not, Sam was awake for the entire time. He screamed as Lucifer pretended to be him, pretending to be in pain, letting Dean help him up. Suddenly his voice was silenced, gagged. But he continued to scream, silent as Lucifer took the rings off the wall and saw Dean’s face as he tried to hold back the tears. Sam fought, breaking off the ice that covered him. He struggled to take back his body, tugging against the reins Lucifer wrapped around him.**

**Suddenly he was in that damn cemetery again.**

**“Sammy?” Dean asked, turning to face him, pushing off the Impala’s hood to do so, blood trickling from his lips. “Are you in there?”**

**_Dean!_ Sam struggled against the reins again, tugging and pulling.**

**Using Sam’s voice Lucifer spoke, “Oh, he's in here, all right.” Using Sam’s fists Lucifer punched Dean against the car again.**

**_NO!_ Sam screamed, tugging, screaming, pulling. Lucifer batted him away like a fly.**

**“And he's gonna feel the snap of your bones,” Lucifer said in his voice before hitting Dean again.**

**_Dean!_ Sam twisted again, straining against the restraints. _Get outta me you son of a bitch!_ Sam shouted, watching Dean spin to the ground and moan, barely moving. Sam knew Dean would never just lie there on the ground unless he was hurt, and hurt bad. _Get outta me!_ Sam screamed again.**

**“Every single one.” Lucifer snatched Dean from the ground, hauling him up against the car. “We're gonna take our time.”**

**_There is no ‘we’!_ Sam shouted, straining at the reins. He flinched, feeling his knuckles crack and break only to be healed immediately afterward. _You son of a bitch!_ Sam screamed. _You said you wouldn’t hurt him!_ He heard the bones in Dean’s face break as Lucifer struck him again and again. ******

**Dean reached out, grabbing Sam’s arm. “Sam, it's okay,” he said through the broken mask of blood and bones. He shifted looking into Sam’s eyes. “It's okay. I'm here. I'm here. I'm not gonna leave you.” Sam’s heart broke. _Dean._ **

**Lucifer struck Dean again and again.**

**Dean continued, “I'm not gonna leave you.”**

**_NO!_ Sam screamed; trapped, enraged, helpless. He fought and yelled, tugging, straining against the binds.**

Sam’s own scream woke him. Pouring sweat, he sat up, clutching the knife on the surface of the nightstand by the bed. Sam panted and gasped, barely able to get enough oxygen. His wings were outstretched, sharpened, and arched. Sam’s wings glowed in the darkness. He wasn’t complaining about the golden white luminosity. Sam hated complete darkness; it was too much like being in the Cage. Now with his wings, he would never have to be in the dark again. Sam looked around. His bedsheets were ripped, the wall behind the bed was scored out, the headboard had a few gouges, and the lamp that had been on his nightstand was on the ground. He bent down and grabbed the lamp before setting it back on its place. His fingers fumbled around the knob before turning it on. It was good light, a dull yellow fully lighting the room. His bare chest heaved as his eyes darted around the room.

 _I’m fine_ , Sam assured himself. _I’m good. I’m okay._ He made a fist with his free hand before loosening it. He did it a few times until he got his breathing under control. Carefully, Sam settled his wings against his back again. The new limbs were obeying him almost as well as his normal limbs, so at least that was something. Glancing at the clock, Sam sighed and wiped the cooling sweat on his face with a broad hand. He had only gotten three hours of sleep. He raked his fingers through his hair. Then Sam did what he had been doing for the past five years.

“Hey, Mom,” he said with a sigh, leaning against the headboard of the bed. “Nightmares again.” He gave a huff. “Well, more like nasty memories of the past. I don’t know what to do Mom. These memories…they’re getting worse. I can barely sleep these days. And then there’s these.” Sam brushed a hand through his right wing. The sensations weren’t as bad when he was doing it. He didn’t really know why he had had such violent reactions with Castiel…

“Sorry Mom,” he said, pulling himself out of the train of thought. “I didn’t forget about you. I just…This is just all so weird. I mean…come on, wings?! And they can’t just be some angel or monster having some fun, something we could get rid of or reverse. They’re freaking _soul_ wings. My soul apparently just decided to throw out wings.” Sam sighed, rubbing his face with his palms. He closed his eyes, the glow from the lamp reaching him through his eyelids. “I don’t get it. Why’d it happen to me? I’m nothing. _Dean’s_ supposed to be the ‘righteous’ one. Of course I don’t know now…him being a demon and the Mark of Cain…” Sam shook his head. “We’re so messed up Mom. _God_ doesn’t even want to help us anymore.” Sam heaved another sigh. “I miss you Mom. I hope Dad’s up there too. We didn’t see him when we were up there…but then, we didn’t really see you either. Cass says sometimes souls have to go through their best memories before they reach their real Heaven. I hope you and Dad are together. I hope you get to have some normalcy there. I hope…I hope…whenever we get done here, we can join you.”

Sam sighed again. “I wonder if you’ve got wings,” he said with a smile. “I bet you do. I bet they look absolutely beautiful. I bet _you_ look beautiful.” He was silent for a few minutes, rubbing his eyes gently. Sam looked up at the ceiling, resting his head against the wall. Closing his eyes again, he tried to relax. It was significantly harder with two new limbs that protruded from his back, but he managed to flatten them out, leaning his weight more on his shoulders than his back. Within a few minutes he was asleep again, the light still on.


	5. My Love

Sam stumbled into the kitchen, blinking like an owl in daylight. The scent of coffee had woken him. He had been greeted to the smell of bacon when he opened the door, and now that he was in the kitchen he could smell the eggs as well.

“Sammy!” Dean said with a wide grin. One hand was wrapped around a coffee mug while the other held a handle of the pan. Several pieces of bacon sizzled with eggs. Dean downed the rest of his coffee before grabbing the spatula and scrambling the eggs further.

Sam blinked at him before grabbing the coffee pot and pouring himself a large cup. He took a long sip from it, watching Dean as he moved easily around the kitchen. He always liked watching Dean cook; his older brother really knew his way around a kitchen. Toast popped up from the toaster and Dean slathered the pieces with butter as he flipped the bacon. Sam finished his coffee and woke up more. He moved to the cabinets, grabbing plates and silverware. Dean nodded his approval before sliding equal portions of bacon and eggs on both plates and putting the toast pieces over them.

“Orange juice or apple?” Sam asked, opening the refrigerator.

“Beer,” Dean replied.

Sam sighed, but grabbed the chilled beer bottle for his brother, setting it on the counter. He grabbed the orange juice carton for himself, washed out his coffee cup, and then poured the juice into the cup.

Plates in hand, the boys walked up the stairs to their usual spots at the table on the main floor of the Bunker. Sam popped up the lid of his laptop, looking for any new hunts. The brothers ate in relative silence, Sam searching for anything out of the ordinary as he did. He was relieved to find nothing new after two hours of looking, needing the break. He would check again for the evening news per usual. Sam sighed before finishing his juice.

Dean had vanished again, leaving Sam alone. For a moment, Sam seriously considered finding his brother, needing the physical presence of someone. Then he sighed again and stood. Selecting a book randomly from a bookcase he hadn’t read from yet, Sam settled himself on a stool by the nearby table.

The book, by chance, was on all the knowledge the Men of Letters had managed to scrap up about angels. Sam read: ‘Evidence of angels has been found throughout history. While there has been no official sighting of angels, many ‘miracle’ stories have some merit to them. In all of these cases it seems angels are concerned with humanity. While the angels are portrayed in multiple ways, they seem to be warriors first, protecting humanity in small ways.' Sam sighed and flicked ahead on some of the pages. He saw the word pure several times. He blinked, wondering if it said anything about angels and love.

**“Sam Winchester. The boy with the demon blood.”**

Unwelcome, the words bounced around Sam’s head, repeating and gaining volume each time. Castiel’s first words to him, those many years ago. And since then, Sam had only gotten worse. Being possessed by two rogue angels, one being the Devil himself, the other being the angel responsible for sin itself, only tainted him further. And then there was his own twisted self, the things Sam had done just to try to find Dean when he was a demon, hiding from both him and Cass.

Sam had had several chances to redeem himself, closing the gates of Hell, finding Gadreel through his remaining grace, save Dean from the Mark of Cain. He was so weak. He tried to stay strong, tried to be an equal to Dean, tried to give back just a portion of what he had been given, but Sam failed at it all. Even minor victories brought major destruction – he didn’t even want to _think_ about the Darkness.

Sam sighed, hiding his eyes behind his hand. He had no idea why he thought Castiel could love him. He was far too polluted for an angel. _Especially for Castiel. He was a GOD for goodness sake!_ Sam thought. He growled at himself, rubbing his forehead hard, as if he could rub his tainted skin off, shed it like a snake.

“Sam?” Sam jerked, and turned slightly to see Castiel standing a few feet away, concern on his face. “Are you well?”

“Yea,” Sam said, shrugging. “Sure.”

Castiel looked at him. Sam’s wings had curled around himself, softening so much they almost felt like a large blanket. Sam growled, shoving the wings off his shoulders only for them to curl back around them.

“I’m fine,” Sam said, getting off the stool and moving past the table, taking a few steps away from it and Castiel.

“No you aren’t,” Castiel sighed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” The wings hiked up around his head, now, the back of the wings strengthening.

“ _Sa-am_ ,” Castiel called.

The hunter hated the way the angel made him shiver every time he said his name like that. He hated his own weakness, his impurity, himself.

The sound of soft wings fluttered in front of him. “Sam.” 

Sam looked at Castiel, relishing the warmth that came from the angel’s hand as it rested on his jaw gently. Blue eyes peered deeply into hazel ones. Without thought, Sam grabbed Castiel, pulling him into a close embrace. Castiel wrapped his arms around Sam, burying his face in Sam’s shoulder. Sam’s head dropped onto the crook of the angel’s neck.

“I’m here,” Castiel whispered, but Sam heard every word. “I’ve got you.” 

Sam’s body shook as he struggled to keep from weeping. Castiel’s grip only tightened. Sam let out a choked gasp.

“You are my hunter,” Castiel said. “ _Mine._ And I love you. No amount of self-loathing can compare to my love, Sam. No matter what you think you’ve done, what you think is inexcusable, impure; _it doesn’t matter_. You are my love. And I will _never_ stop loving you.”

Sam let the tears fall, but only a few, in case Dean happened upon them. Castiel was silent, merely holding onto Sam as if he were a child needing comfort. Sam never knew what a mother’s touch was, but if he had to guess, this would be what it was like. He relaxed into Castiel’s arms, knowing the angel could hold him. Sam heaved a sigh, his arms still around the angel. “Thank you,” he said softly.

Castiel rested his lips on Sam’s ear. “Always,” he breathed before kissing the ear gently and pressing his hand on Sam’s head.

For a brief moment Sam felt safe again.


	6. Fatigue

Sam sat at the edge of his bed, head cradled in his hands, elbows in his lower thighs. He was exhausted but couldn’t sleep. His wings curled around him like a downy comforter. It had been a week since wings had sprouted from his back. Shockingly, there had been nothing to hunt for that whole week. Sam had just come from working out again in hopes to tire himself out. Fatigue circled him…but this was the third time he had gotten up in the last hour. Even talking to his mother hadn’t helped, in fact it had almost the opposite effects as the hunter struggled for the words to express his emotions.

Sam heaved a breath, standing and pacing around the room. It was 3 am. He hadn’t slept yet. Sam was jumpy and anxious and had no real idea why; he’d dealt with the wing situation, and in fact was looking forward to testing them not only in battle but also flight. He paced, flicking his wings up and down to do something extra. Maybe if he worked himself into complete exhaustion his body would force his mind and soul into sleep.

“Sam.”

Sam froze immediately. He had been so frayed he hadn’t heard the flutter of Castiel’s wings. “Hey Cass,” Sam said, back still to Cass.

“I heard your call.”

Sam looked over his shoulder, above the edge of his wing. Castiel looked at him, several emotions in his features.

“I didn’t call for you.”

“In a way you did,” came the soft reply.

Sam turned to face Castiel fully, truly curious. “How?”

The angel looked at him, head slightly tilted, eyes spilling emotion. “Your desire for comfort.”

Sam’s wings curled around himself again as he looked at Cass. He blinked, staring long into the eyes of the creature he loved. Yea, he could say it now, this late, this tired, this time. With a soft flick of his wings, Sam was inches from Castiel, and then, before he really thought it through, kissed Castiel.

The angel’s lips were slightly chapped as always, but warm and soft and eager…just as they had been the other night. While he couldn’t see them, Sam sensed Castiel’s wings wrapping around him, enveloping over all of Sam as they continued to kiss. Sam’s wings tucked under Castiel’s invisible ones, gaining heat from something he couldn’t see or really feel. Cass shifted, his warm hand stretching up to stroke Sam’s jawline, pulling Sam closer, shifting even closer until the only thing between them were the clothes they wore. Sam pulled away slightly, his exhale mingling with Castiel’s as hazel met blue. There was pain in Sam’s eyes, pain and anguish and that Winchester brand of self-loathing and ‘I’m never enough’ that Castiel found both irritating and endearing all at once. “Cass,” breathed Sam, lips inches away but soul locked in a cage of the hunter’s own making. He paused a moment, needing to hear the words again but not wanting to seem pathetic. Finally Sam asked, “Do you love me?”

Castiel let out his breath, unaware he had held it. He stretched his hand up again, stroking Sam’s cheek. “Sam Winchester,” Castiel said softly, staring into the mix of brown and green haze that was Sam’s eyes. “I love you.”

Sam’s soul flared like a newborn sun, melting the cage bars in its heat. Sam shifted, silently demanding Castiel’s touch and the angel obeyed, kissing Sam deeply. Cass gently bit Sam’s lower lip and the hunter moaned softly. Sam’s wings slicked down, replacing their fluffy, downy quality for a thin, sleek texture. Now it was Castiel’s turn to groan quietly. Sam chuckled. “You still haven’t given me wing lessons,” Sam breathed.

“Later,” Castiel whispered, pulling Sam’s lips to him again.

For a long moment there was nothing but them. Nothing but warmth and tongues and lips and the curl of their fingers on each other’s shirts.

**The boy with the demon blood.**

Sam jerked back. Cass looked at him, confused. The hunter knew Castiel hadn’t said those words, he knew his brain had once again taken him on a road he would rather not be down. He wanted to go back to the senseless kissing, the warmth he had felt.

But the damage was done.

Sam’s wings drooped, making his back ache, as he turned away from Cass. “I’m sorry,” Sam said, pulling a hand up block his eyes a moment. Self-loathing dripped back into his psyche. A new cage formed, made stronger by his doubt and tainted blood and his soul willingly fled inside it. Sam shifted backwards, unable to look at the angel any longer.

Castiel searched Sam’s features and read what the man had thought. Gently he set a hand on Sam’s shoulder, forcing the hunter to look into Castiel’s eyes. “Oh Sam,” whispered Cass. “If only I could erase those feelings from your mind.”

Something in Sam snapped. Fatigue and self-loathing merged into a vat of misdirected anger. Feathers stiffened and grew sharp as his wings flicked up. Castiel looked at him, surprised. Sam shoved Castiel’s hand off him. “Yea,” Sam barked a laugh, taking another step away from Cass. “Why don’t you?” he asked. “I mean, it’s so easy to get in my head for you angels. Using my body for whatever purpose suits you guys. Why don’t you just reach in, Cass? Cuz last time was so great – you breaking the wall in my head. Got to be real buddies with Lucifer. And after that Gadreel decided to take a joyride in my body, thanks to my freakin _brother_.”

Castiel looked at Sam, mouth slightly open. “Sam I – .”

“Everyone I’ve ever cared about used me Castiel.”

**“You did it,” Ruby breathed looking at the blood as it shifted into a circle.**

**“I had to do it,” Dean shouted angrily in the room.**

**“You give me no choice,” sighed Castiel reaching toward Sam’s forehead in the alleyway.**

“Everyone,” Sam shouted.” Ruby, Dean, _you_.”

Sam could see the hurt in Castiel’s eyes, but he couldn’t stop himself. Fatigue fueled his rage, his back ached from the extra weight of his wings, which were stretched up and forward, tips spiked and aiming for the angel. “What did I _do_ to all of you?! I mean, seriously? What was it?!”

“Sam – .”

“Just go.”

It was two words. Two words, holding the hate and anger of a lifetime.

And suddenly Sam was standing in his room alone. Emptiness consumed him as he realized what he had done. Longing for unconsciousness, he threw himself onto his bed…but sleep did not come to him.


	7. Surprise

Sam fumbled with the coffee machine. He hadn’t slept in three days. Every time he had tried, Castiel’s hurt expression filled his mind and his guilt and self-loathing spiked chemicals in his tainted blood and it was a vicious cycle that rivaled Lucifer lighting fireworks in his broken head. Sam turned the machine on and sat heavily in the chair nearby, waiting for his third cup since he had given up sleep that morning. Checking the clock Sam figured he had another hour to himself before Dean woke up. _Cass_ , Sam called again. _I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…I mean…it wasn’t…I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. Please…come back. We…_

The machine finished his coffee, beeping softly. Sam sighed, stood, and sluggishly moved to the machine, pouring the dark liquid into his cup. He didn't know what else to say and he had called for Cass several times every day, silence his only reply.

“Pack up Sammy,” Dean called as he merrily entered the kitchen, laptop balanced in one hand. “We got ourselves a haunting.” The older Winchester looked at Sam, losing his grin. “Woah,” he said, staring at Sam. “Dude. You look like Hell.”

“Thanks,” Sam replied with a force smile.

“Another sleepless night?” Dean asked, settling the laptop on the table.

“Yea.” Not wanting to talk about it, Sam shifted the computer so he could read the article Dean had pulled up.

Dean shifted, starting his own cup of coffee, glancing a few times over his shoulder to look at his younger brother. While the wings still took some getting used to, he had to admit they screamed Sam’s inner thoughts better than a Howler from Harry Potter. _Dude_ , Dean thought, closing his eyes in shame and freezing mid-pour. _You **DID NOT** just reference Harry Freakin' Potter._ Dean let out a breath as he shook his head, ashamed. _Thank god I didn’t say it out loud._ He braced himself of the counter a moment, collecting himself again before returning to his previous thought - his brother, sleepless _again_.

“Yea,” Sam said. “Looks like a haunting alright.” He peered at the location. “Not too far from here either.”

“Yep,” Dean replied, letting the machine start his coffee before turning to face Sam again. “Just a state away. Should be a quick go, but it’s something at least.” He nodded toward Sam’s wings. “You gonna use ‘em or hide ‘em?”

Sam gave a soft bark of a laugh. “I don’t think my wings are gonna be much help with this one, Dean.”

“I don’t know,” Dean said. “Could be useful. Maybe soul wings cancel out angry spirits.”

Sam shook his head, trying to be lighthearted so Dean wouldn’t see the pain in his heart. “Yea…maybe.”

The brothers packed and within a half hour they were in the Impala. Sam settled his wings under his shirt, bound there by the makeshift harness he had made during his first sleepless night. Comfortable and easily escapable, the harness helped support Sam’s wings as well as hide them. To anyone who didn’t know better, they would simply think Sam’s back was just a little more muscular. Sam hoped the hunt would help take his mind off Castiel and himself.

~

“Get down,” shouted Dean. Sam crouched immediately and the shotgun blast of salt dispersed the ghost that had appeared at Sam’s side. Sam, in turn, shot the other ghost that was going after Dean. They had expected one ghost, not five, and were quickly running out of ammo.

The bodies were just a few meters away, stacked against the cellar wall. It had taken three hours to find where the first body was hidden – in the wall of the building where he was murdered – and had thought that was the end of it, until they found a second body just a few meters away from the first. Turns out the serial murder kept all her bodies in the walls of what had been her uncle’s cabin twenty years ago. Woken by the location scout who had found the cabin a perfect spot for their new movie, the ghosts had started attacking the crew who were staying nearby one at a time. The Winchesters had expected one ghost because only one had actually latched onto the ‘souvenir’ brought back to camp by the location scout – a tooth with a particular coating of wood sap found from the certain logs that made up the cabin, leading the Winchesters there in the first place.

Sam shot another ghost before Dean handed him the other shotgun. “Cover me while I burn the sonsofbitches,” Dean called as he shifted toward the bodies. Sam spread his arms apart, fingers hovering the triggers as he backed up slightly. They had tossed the bodies in a corner and Sam could hear Dean pouring the salt and lighter fluid on them as Sam searched the room for more of the ghosts.

Daylight was fading and Sam caught glimpses of stars when he dared to look up through the broken ceiling and roofless cabin. He glimpsed a wisp of grey and shot at it, shifting slightly, and blasting another ghost. Suddenly Sam was thrown forward, one shotgun spinning from his hands as he instinctively shifted to protect his face. He whipped around, still prone, to blast the ghost before the dreaded click sounded. _Out of ammo_ , Sam screamed silently, searching the floor for the other shotgun. The ghosts were all showing up now, sensing Sam’s desperation. “Dean, look out,” Sam cried before throwing himself toward the fallen shotgun. Aiming for the one closest to Dean that was at enough of an angle the blast wouldn’t hit his brother, Sam pulled the trigger. _Click._ “Dammit,” Sam breathed. The ghost was just about to touch Dean’s neck when Sam threw himself forward, shouting, “No!”

Clothes ripped and suddenly the building burst into gold-white light. Dean squinted as the light burned behind him before he struck the matches. He could barely see the flames in the blinding light before he dropped them over the bodies. The light dimmed and the bodies burned. Blinking the spots out of his eyes, Dean turned.

Sam stood a meter away, wings spread wide, the cloth of his harness, shirt, and jacket in tatters around them and drooping toward the floor. His face showed as much shock as Dean’s. “Dude,” breathed Dean appreciatively. For a moment Dean saw his image of an angel realized…in his brother of all people. He shook his head, blinking violently to try to see straight. “How…?”

“I don’t know,” Sam replied, staring at his wings. “I didn’t…I didn’t even…it just…happened.”

Dean blinked several more times before grinning. “Well what did I tell you?” he asked, striding forward to slap Sam on the shoulder lightly. “Told you they’d come in handy.”

Sam nodded numbly. “Yea,” he managed before staring at the wing again.

“Hey, but uh, next time,” Dean said, shifting to look at the ruined clothes. “Maybe take off your jacket before flinging those around?”


	8. Kiss and Make Up

Sam was still reeling as they drove back to the Bunker. He had no idea how he had done what he had done, and to be honest, he wasn’t really sure exactly what he had done. Sam shifted, his wings aching. He had found a spare jacket wedged in the back of the trunk so at least the seat wasn’t scratching him, but it was still uncomfortable.

“You okay over there?” Dean asked, glancing at him.

“Yea,” Sam replied. “Just…confused.”

“Yea,” laughed Dean. “That was some light show you pulled. I’m still seeing spots.” There was silence. Dean glanced at Sam again. “You could always call for Cass. Haven’t seen him in a while.”

Sam shifted again. “Yea.” _Cass. If you’re listening…I…I need your help._

“Are you guys…okay?” Dean ventured.

“Yea, sure,” Sam said, too quickly.

Dean glanced at him. “Dude…look. I’m so not gonna tell you how to work a relationship with an angel but…if you guys are having problems – .”

“It’s fine,” Sam said shifting and flicking on the radio. Dean let it slide and drove in silence.

~

Sam made it into the door of the Bunker before he heard the whisper of wings. “Cass,” Sam greeted softly, looking at the angel standing a few feet in front of him.

“Sam.”

There was a moment of silence between them as they stared at one another. Dean was picking out a beer from the fridge downstairs, oblivious to it all.

Sam cleared his throat. “So, uh…I gotta change.” Castiel tilted his head. The hunter sighed, shifting off the jacket to reveal the tattered shirt.

“Sam,” Castiel said, concern in his voice. “What happened?”

The back of Sam’s neck reddened. “I, uh…don’t really know. My wings kinda…just _glowed_.”

Castiel looked at him. “You forced enough energy from your soul to your wings. Soul energy is the strongest of energies within the Universe. It is a very difficult task to pull the energy into the physical world, wings make it easier but it is still challenging.”

“Oh,” Sam replied. “Uh…cool.” He bit his lower lip before shifting around Castiel to head to his room. He pulled off his tattered shirt and tried to decide if he wanted to ruin another shirt by cutting slits in the back or just go shirtless.

“Have you been flying?”

Sam turned, seeing Castiel approaching his doorway. “Huh?”

Castiel strode toward Sam, concern on his features. “Have you been flying? It’s extremely dangerous if you have. You shouldn’t have – .”

“Whoa,” Sam said, lifting his hand. “No Cass. I haven’t been flying. I just…I’ve just been working out.”

“Oh,” Castiel relied softly. Sam cleared his throat again, realizing how close Cass was now. Another moment of silence. “Sam…I’m sorry.”

Sam blinked, confused. “For what?”

“For failing you.”

Sam reeled back, surprised. He wasn’t expecting that. “What?”

Castiel’s shame was palpable. He couldn’t even look at Sam for more than a few seconds. “I’ve failed you. So many times. And I’m so sorry. I’ve failed Dean, the world, my family. But…what I regret most,” he said, piercing blue managing to meet hazel, “is failing you.”

“Cass, you didn’t – .”

Cass looked away again. “I should have been here when you need me. I shouldn’t have left you for so long. I shouldn’t have broken the wall in your mind. I should have known Metatron was playing me. I should have tried harder to locate Dean when he was lost to us. I should have known Rowena would try some trickery once the spell to release the Mark was finished. I…I’m useless…broken…and I’m sorry Sam. So sorry. I continue to fail you. And I can’t seem to stop.”

Sam took the necessary step and wrapped his arms around Castiel, squeezing him gently. For a moment Castiel stood stiff, but Sam continued to hold him, and finally the angel pulled his arms up, wrapping around Sam, burying his face in Sam’s chest, his nose settling in the small hole between Sam’s collarbone and sternum. “I guess we’re both broken messes,” Sam said softly before squeezing the angel tighter. “Maybe together we can fix each other.” Castiel merely melted into Sam further. Sam held him, supporting his weight easily. “I’ve got you,” Sam breathed. “I’m not letting you go.”

They stayed like that for a long time – Castiel’s breath warming Sam’s chest, Sam breathing in the scent of lightning and fresh linen that lingered on Castiel. Then curiosity got the better of him. He pulled away slightly to look at Cass.

“So why did you ask if I had been flying?”

Castiel blushed a moment before looking down. “Your…your wings are far more defined than they should be. They only get that way after regular use.”

Sam shifted a little farther away, bending to look Cass in the eyes as he tried to avert his gaze from Sam. “Are you saying I look buff?”

The angel blushed again. “In a manner of speaking,” he replied.

Sam laughed softly before he was silenced by a gentle kiss.

Cass pulled away to look at Sam, tasting his fatigue. “You’re exhausted,” Cass breathed.

“Yea,” Sam sighed, blinking wearily. “Haven’t been sleeping… for a few days.”

“You need your rest.”

“But Cass – .”

Cass reached up again to kiss Sam silent. Sam leaned against the angel, knowing he could handle Sam’s weight. That was of the one things Sam loved about the angel, he knew could support Sam…Castiel had done so in too many ways to count. Castiel maneuvered Sam to the bed without the hunter realizing it. Gently, the angel settled Sam against the bed, leaning over the hunter, hands on either side of Sam, pressed hard into the mattress, tie brushing against the hunter’s chest. Sam’s heart quickened not expecting this turn of events. Cass bent toward him.

“Sleep,” Castiel breathed, breath brushing against his cheek. Sam groaned, looking up at Cass. This wasn’t what he was anticipating either. But he had to admit the sensation of lying down was better than he had expected. Sam had learned if he angled himself right, he could even lie on his wings without them hurting; he just had to make sure he moved slightly or they’d fall asleep like his arm. “Hmm,” Sam breathed, closing his eyes as he lay there. Unconscious of it, Sam’s wings were fluffing slightly, stretching in pleasure.

Cass nudged Sam’s ear with his nose. “Go to sleep,” Cass breathed in his ear. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Hmmm,” Sam moaned, nuzzling the sheets, the line of grace Cass using on Sam making the hunter even more drowsy. Without the conflict in his heart, Sam’s mind was silenced, at least momentarily.

Castiel smiled, still propped above the hunter. Sam looked like a child there, already half asleep. The angel brushed Sam’s hair from his face, kissing his cheek. “Goodnight,” Cass breathed.

“Night,” murmured Sam before passing out completely.

Cass grinned wider before settling himself next Sam, careful of his charge’s wings. He watched Sam sleep, blinking slowly. The knot in his grace he had had for the past few days untwisted. Watching Sam sleep soothed him. He always loved watching humans sleep, but there was something about the way Winchesters slept…especially Sam.


	9. Let's Talk

Castiel slipped out of the room silently, closing Sam’s bedroom door. Dean passed him, taking the first swig from his just-opened beer. Hunter and angel locked eyes. “Can I talk to you?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” replied Cass. He followed Dean to Dean’s bedroom. The hunter sat on the edge of his bed. Castiel stood, tucking his hands in his coat pockets. Dean looked at the angel for a long moment, twisting the beer in his hands as he tried to put his feelings in words. “Sam,” Dean said before pausing. He sighed before fixing Castiel with his sea green eyes. “That’s my brother,” he started. “Sam. And God knows I will do anything for him. Even died for him a few times.” Dean paused, taking a drink from the beer. “Our lives are messed up. But through it all, through the Mark, the multiple avoided apocalypses, angel wars – through everything, it’s been us. Me and him. Together. And I’ve seen him in a lot of pain. We’ve been through a lot of crap together. And…well…our relationships with others… haven’t gone well.”

“I am aware,” Castiel replied coldly.

“Yea,” Dean said, looking into the bottle of the beer. “Yea…well, look just…be careful with him. He’s…he’s all I’ve got left, besides you.”

Castiel looked at him. “You have some nerve.”

Dean did a double-take. “’Scuse me?”

The angel gave Dean a harsh look. “You are talking to me about family and relationships? _**You?!**_ Do you even _remember_ what I’ve done for you – and Sam? I _fell_ for you. Rejected by my whole family, lost everyone I loved, for you and Sam. I was hunted by those I had once called brothers. I fought for you, killed for you, protected you against angel, archangel, and demon. It was supposed to be you. It _was_ you, for a time. But then you…”

The silence between them spoke the volumes of what had happened between them.

Cass continued. “ _You_ ended it. And that’s fine. But don’t you dare give me a ‘if you hurt him I’ll kill you’ speech. Because _you_ hurt _**me**_. After _everything_ we did together…” Castiel looked away briefly in anger before fixing Dean with piercing blue eyes. “I will love Sam fully. I will give him everything I am. And I will hope – _this time_ – I am not rejected. Sam is pure and good – just like you. And for some reason neither of you can see past your faults and your mistakes to see just how noble and worthy you really are. Sam sprouted _soul wings_ , Dean. Do you have any idea how much excess of a soul one must have to even get wings when in _Heaven_? The fact Sam could have wings in this plane of existence is incredible – miraculous. You two are the strongest, bravest, most selfless mortals I have ever known. _Yes_ , you both have made serious mistakes. _Yes_ , you have both done horrible things. But no mistake, no horrible thing you have done could _**ever**_ compare to _**saving the world** _the multiple times as you have done. You two are _everything_ to me. And I will do everything in my power to protect him and you. You _know_ me. I will stay by his side until the end of time itself, through all the planes of existence.”__

Dean was silent. Finally, he said, “Yea.”

To Cass, who knew him so well, it spoke volumes. The angel shifted slightly, the hurt in his heart sharpening a moment. Then he looked up at Dean once more. “Dean,” he said softly. Dean looked at him. There was pain in his eyes as well. “I will always love you,” the angel stated. “It’s just different now.”

Dean closed his eyes a moment. “I know,” he replied. “And it’s the same for me.”

The angel looked at Dean. “You will find someone.”

Dean nodded, although he wasn’t sure he believed Cass. There were a lot of things the angel had told Dean during the many years that the hunter didn’t – or couldn’t – believe. “Sure,” Dean replied.

“You will,” Cass confirmed, knowing it in his grace. The angel left, needing to stretch his own wings.


	10. Morning

Sam woke with a soft noise. Blinking, he saw Cass standing beside the bed, watching him with soft eyes. “Hey,” breathed Sam sleepily.

“Hello Sam.”

Sam’s wings stretched toward Castiel, the edges drowsily wrapping around Castiel. “Sorry,” Sam mumbled, still half-asleep.

The angel smiled softly. “It’s fine,” he replied, the texture of the soft feathers against his skin unfamiliar but welcome. The angel brushed his fingers along the feathers, sending a small shudder through the wing. Sam sighed in pleasure. Cass smiled, enjoying the sensation of feathers on his skin and the fact _he_ made that noise come from Sam. The angel let out a long breath before moving forward, settling on the corner of the bed.

“You always keep your promises,” Sam whispered, drowsy.

“What’s that?” Castiel asked, pulling the hair from Sam’s face.

“You said you’d be here when I woke up,” whispered Sam, wings wrapping around Cass in a drowsy embrace. “And here you are.”

Castiel smiled before bending down, kissing Sam’s forehead. Sam let out another content sigh, not yet fully awake. Cass chuckled, stroking the side of Sam’s face.

“So I was thinking,” Cass started softly.

“Hmm?” Sam mumbled looking up at Castiel with sleep hazed eyes a moment before closing them again.

“Do you still want wing lessons?”

Sam’s eyes snapped open, clearing to gaze at the angel with those hazel eyes. A slow grin spread across his face, dimples growing, eyes brightening.

~

Five minutes later found Sam leading Castiel to the expansive yard behind the Bunker. A stone wall surrounded the yard, waist-high to both of them. Eager and bare chested, Sam strode across the grass toward the middle of the yard. His wings flicked up and around in excitement. Cass smiled, watching the man, feeling like he was looking at a fledgling child. It was good to see the tall hunter happy; there were too few moments Sam got to be joyful. They stopped in the center of the yard.

“First show me what you were doing,” requested Castiel.

“Sure,” Sam said, rolling his shoulders and neck before opening his wings. He stretched lightly before starting the workout.

Castiel watched him, his hands tucked in his coat pockets. The angel stretched his own wings, face impassive as he looked at Sam. Quickly, Sam began to sweat, working the wings as he had been doing for the past week and a half. When he was done, he stood panting in front of the angel. Castiel didn’t have to hide his gaze now; he could freely linger on Sam’s gleaming pecs and forearms. And Sam didn’t have to hide his pleasure at being watched; he smiled as the angel wet his lips and stare.

This lasted for much longer than it probably should have before Sam cleared his throat slightly. His wings flickered in the light, catching Castiel’s eyes. “Wing lessons?” Sam asked.

“Right,” Castiel said, looking up at Sam’s eyes. “What would you like to learn first?”

“I don’t know,” Sam replied. He had several things in his mind but at the moment he couldn’t make up his mind. "Teach me to fly," he finally said, putting it as broadly as he could.


	11. Wings

They spent an hour working on Sam’s wings. Sam flitted around the yard, following Castiel’s instructions. His workout had given him some stamina, but he was becoming exhausted. The last thing they worked on was the power-stroke. Sam was a healthy, muscular man, weighing over two hundred pounds (he hadn’t bothered weighing himself after the addition of his wings), so even with his wings straining, it was difficult to go from feet on the ground to hovering in the air.

“Don’t get frustrated,” Castiel said after Sam blew out his breath in annoyance. “This is the hardest thing for any creature with wings to do.”

Sam heaved a breath, nodding. They were at the far end of the yard now, near the stone wall that bordered the end of the yard. Sweat poured off Sam, his wings damp with it. The hunter took another breath before beating his wings, straining to lift himself higher than before. He made it a few inches off the ground before landing hard again.

“Better,” Castiel approved, smiling gently. “You did well Sam.”

“Thanks,” breathed Sam, wiping a hand across his face. The wind blew, cooling him. Castiel watched him as his wings spread open more, letting the wind dry his feathers. 

“They’re beautiful,” Cass said, looking at them.

“Yea,” Sam replied, giving them a quick glance. “I guess.” There had been something on Sam’s mind for a while now, but he wasn’t sure if he had the nerve to ask. After a few more moments of silence between the two, Sam bit his lower lip lightly.

“What is it Sam?” Cass asked, seeing the change in his charge’s energy.

“Cass?” Sam started, looking almost shyly at the angel. “Can I see your wings?”

Castiel looked at Sam, almost as if he was heartbroken. “My wings are still damaged. After the fall…” Castiel swallowed, closing his eyes a moment. “My grace has been restored but it takes a long time to repair extensive damage my wings have endured. They…they’re not…they’re…”

Sam looked at the angel with soft eyes. “Cass,” whispered Sam. “I would love to see them. Damaged or not.” Then Sam closed his eyes a moment. “Unless you don’t want to show me.”

“Sam,” Castiel breathed. He hesitated a moment, before saying, “I can’t bring them fully into this plane, but you can see enough.” Sam opened his eyes to find Castiel on the other side of the wall, bracing himself against the stones as he faced Sam, eyes closed, brow furrowed.

In a brilliant flash of light and a ripple of energy that blew Sam’s hair softly, Castiel’s wings phased into the physical world and into Sam’s sight. The breath flew out of Sam’s lungs as he watched the magnificent limbs spread wide. There was obvious fraying and gaps in the feathers and the limbs were ripped and scarred but they were still beautiful.

The feathers were black – no dark blue – no - maybe they were black to begin with but now they bloomed with color on the dark background. Shades of colors grew and shrank, scattering along the wings in patterns and swirls, different hues spreading in lines like veins or vines.

The weight of the partially phased wings made Cass bend forward – the human body unprepared for even the fractional weight of angel wings. He supported himself against the stone wall heavily, hearing the stones protest against the additional weight but holding steady. Blood blossomed from the torn flesh on his back, pain sparking before fading as the angel focused on it, banishing it momentarily.

Castiel opened his eyes, watching Sam’s face. Awe poured from the hunter, his own wings spreading out in the emotion. It took an extraordinary amount of energy just to phase his wings partially but it was worth it to see Sam’s face. The hunter lost several years on his face as he looked Cass. Sam’s wings shifted toward Castiel, stretching wide in delight and awe.

Sam was overwhelmed. The colors bloomed and withered, reminding the hunter of a video he saw of flowers growing, blooming, and dying all within a few minutes. Sam reminded himself to breathe, finding the task harder than it once was. Then he moved forward, hand outstretched. He looked into Castiel’s eyes, asking a silent question. Cass nodded. Sam gently touched one wing.

Color exploded around Sam’s hand, flashing gold, scarlet, and cobalt. The brilliant colors made the other shades Castiel’s wings had been pale in comparison. The wing shuddered under Sam’s touch, curling forward as Cass moaned in pleasure. Sam realized his own wings mimicked the action, although Castiel had much better self-control. While Castiel’s wings only slightly edged toward Sam, Sam’s wings were practically _throwing_ themselves at Cass, twisting up and coiling around the angel, just centimeters from actually touching Castiel. The hunter ignored his wings, focusing entirely on Castiel’s.

Sam gently brushed across the wings, careful to go with the feathers, not wanting to ruffle them. The colors followed Sam’s hand, sparking and growing, spreading like oil paint dropped into a black canvas. The feathers were sturdy but still with a degree of softness – like polyester. He stroked the wing, getting bolder as his fascination grew. Sam dug his fingers in deeper, sparking a brighter shade of blue and darker one of red – azure and burgundy following his fingers as he raked gently through the layers of frayed feathers. His other hand stretched forward, gently grasping the bone of Castiel’s wing. The limb was firm, the muscles underneath strong. Sam made sure to avoid the obvious wounds but he couldn’t know he was brushing barely healed feathers and squeezing bruised muscles.

Castiel made a soft sound of discomfort as Sam pressed a little harder on his injured limb.

If it had been someone else, someone besides Sam (and perhaps Dean), his noise would have been lost in the near-stupor of astonishment Sam was in, but it was _Sam_. His hazel eyes pulled away from broken beauty of Castiel’s wings to look at the angel himself.

A sheen of sweat covered Castiel’s face. Creases in Castiel’s forehead spoke of agony, his eyes were closed – black lashes against now pale skin. The scent of blood reached Sam’s consciousness. Sam shifted, looking over the joint of Castiel’s wing to look at his back. Blood stained through all the layers of clothes the angel wore, changing the color of Castiel’s coat from tan to wet ruby. Sam realized Cass was breathing shallowly – short, quick intakes that spoke further of discomfort.

“Cass,” Sam breathed, removing his hands from Castiel’s wing. “I’m sorry.”

Castiel opened his eyes, pain in his eyes.

“Cass, you’re hurting. Put them back. You should have told me it hurt.”

There was a soft, familiar noise of feathers flapping as Castiel settled his wings back into the hidden dimension. The scent of blood faded as the patch of red on the angel’s coat disappeared. Cass stayed bent a few more seconds, gaining his strength again before standing straight. His palms left imprints on the stones. The pain faded. He breathed normally again, finding Sam’s eyes.

“You should have told me it hurt,” Sam said again.

Castiel shifted, disappearing and then reappearing to stand beside Sam. “You wanted to see them,” replied Cass.

Sam turned to face the angel and tilted his head, looking at Cass with a flash of emotions. Cass shifted his gaze to Sam’s wings. Curled toward Castiel, the wings were exposing their insides again, the most vital of areas – begging to be stroked, ruffled, _touched_. The angel couldn’t help himself. He strode forward, caressing the inside of Sam’s right wing, the softest feathers.

Sam made a noise in the back of his throat and his eyes closed. His wings shuddered violently, curling forward, exposing themselves further – begging for more of Castiel’s touch. The angel obeyed, diving his fingers into Sam’s gold and white feathers. He studied the wings for the first time. 

The angel had seen many wings before but there was something about Sam’s. Gold lines swirled in intricate patterns just under the surface of the feathers, stretching across the entirety of each wing. They were beautiful. Thick and healthy, Sam’s feathers were strong, layers upon endless layers; no damage whatsoever marring the beautiful wings. The feathers were soft like fluffed cotton. These were soul wings; lighter in every sense of the word than angel wings.

It had been years since Castiel had seen such pure wings – untouched by war, brilliant and glorious. It was sensual all in itself – new wings, tender wings, precious and glowing brighter under Castiel’s fingers. Pure, innocent wings that had barely been touched – Castiel could tell just by looking at the feathers Sam had hardly touched them himself. There was so much to explore, so much to experience and Castiel would be there for it all…if Sam let him. Curious, Castiel carded through the wing, wondering if – 

A noise tore from Sam’s throat, his wings going into a spasm, startling the hunter. Castiel smiled as his fingers found the object he had searched for. A scent drifted between them, something like sandalwood and tree sap. The angel brushed against the gland once more, making Sam groan and his wings shuddered violently a second time. The clear, thick oil from the gland coated Castiel’s first three fingers to the second joints. Sam looked at Cass, breathless now.

“What the – ?” 

“Oil glands,” replied Castiel, moving to show Sam his wet fingers. “Yours,” he continued, almost reverent as he spoke. “Used for…various things.” Cass moved back, gently pulling away the small feathers so Sam could get a better look at the walnut sized gland tucked away, gleaming a pale yellow compared to the brilliant gold and white of the feathers. “Angel and soul wings have several glands along the limb. They help clean the feathers naturally but…they are usually most heavily used during intercourse.” Sam blinked at Cass, listening intently at the angel as he explained. “Angels use it to mark their mates…among other things.”

Cass shifted slightly, moving away from Sam just a little, not wanting to presume, or force Sam into anything the hunter didn’t want.

Sam carded through his feathers on his right wing, finding the closest gland and squeezing it lightly. Oil slicked his own fingers but the sense of arousal was lost in the knowledge it was about to be touched.

Sam looked at his fingers as he rubbed them together before gazing into Castiel’s eyes. Blue met hazel, though Cass was quick to duck his face and eyes down. Cautious or coy, Sam didn’t care what the action meant for Cass, knowing what he wanted – needed – to do. Sam moved forward and kissed the angel, pressing his slick fingers against Castiel’s cheek, sliding down the angel’s jaw and across his neck as he deepened the kiss, the oil trailing down Castiel’s skin. Cass joined the kiss, smelling the scent of Sam’s oil and natural musk – worn books and old spice. After a few moments, the hunter pulled out of the kiss to brush his lips against Castiel’s ear. “Mine,” whispered Sam, dipping his hand under Castiel’s collar to brush the last of the oil on Castiel’s upper chest.

Castiel moaned, gripping Sam’s bare arms. Sam laughed gently before dropping his head, nosing Castiel’s jaw a moment before kissing lightly down Castiel’s neck. Cass shifted to expose more to Sam. Sam glanced up, seeing Castiel’s closed eyes. Where there had been agony on the angel’s face moments ago, pleasure filled his features now. Sam smiled, pressing harder against Castiel’s skin, one hand on the angel’s shoulder and the other shifting to touch Castiel’s jaw, neck, and chest.

Castiel couldn’t help it. Sam’s touch was warm and thick, but more importantly, it was _needed_. While Castiel knew all the mechanics to showing affection in all its various forms, it was different experiencing it, especially with different partners. Sam’s scent covered him, his oil drying on Castiel’s skin in the warm sunlight. Sam didn’t know the full extent of what he had done with his oil, but Cass knew and that was enough. Arousing and desirable, Sam was there – _right there_ – feeling the same way about Cass that Castiel felt about him. Just as Sam’s wings were curled toward Cass, Castiel’s hidden wings circled Sam. Cass moaned again as Sam bit lightly against his neck, digging his blunt nails into Sam’s bare lower back before shifting up and brushing against Sam’s wings. Sam moaned, pulling away from Castiel just slightly.

Electricity sparked in Sam’s brain again. It shattered like lightning across his synapses, the sensations new and brilliant and glorious. It made Sam feel thirteen years old again – everything was new, the lightest touch sparking twinges in an organ that had been ignored for far too long. “Ooh Cass,” moaned Sam. Cass made a noise in the back of his throat, pleased by Sam’s response. Castiel was gentle and light, brushing against Sam’s feathers again, but Sam wanted _more_. Sam shifted, lifting his hands to frame Castiel’s face, looking into his blue eyes. He silently demanded Castiel’s touch and Cass obeyed, pulling forward to kiss Sam eagerly. Sam’s hand dropped off Castiel’s shoulder, reaching further down – 

“Hey pigeons!”

Hunter and angel pulled apart, turning to look at Dean as he strode toward them across the yard. “What?” Sam shouted back, removing his hands from Castiel.

“We got ourselves a case,” Dean replied before reaching them. He looked at them, trying to figure out if he was happy for his brother and his best friend, or if he still felt odd about the whole thing. He decided on a middle ground and stowed the other bird comment he had planned to say.

“Vamps,” Dean said with a grin.


	12. Get Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's so short. I've had writer's block. I'm working on it!

Cass had insisted on coming with the brothers to the town Dean had found the vampire murder two states over. “I still haven’t shown you how to fight with your wings,” Castiel had told Sam. “Nor how to hide them from others. I will do both when this hunt is over.” Then he had sat in the backseat of the car and refused to get out. So the boys packed up, got into the Impala, and started driving. They had been to some part of the state multiple times in the past two years. The drive should have been a simple one.

But Dean was getting distracted. 

Every few minutes Sam would turn to look at the angel in the backseat. Normally Dean wouldn’t mind Sam moving around, but it got annoying about ten minutes into the drive. The seat made a soft noise at Sam’s movement and his wings kept bursting out from the jacket, tickling the hell out of Dean’s arm and cheek at best, momentarily blinding him at worst. Finally, an hour in the drive, Dean pulled the car over and threw it into park. “Out,” Dean ordered, glaring at Sam.

Sam returned his brother's scowl with a look of confusion. “What?”

“Get out,” Dean demanded before jerking his head toward the backseat. “Go sit with him. You’re annoying the hell out of me turning like that and your freakin feathers are gonna make me wreck. Get. Out.”

Sam sighed but couldn’t argue. He obeyed, getting out of the passenger’s seat and settling beside Cass in the backseat. Dean let out a breath, eyes closed a moment before getting back on the road in peace. “Just…just uh,” Dean started. “Don’t like…make-out back there okay?”

Sam glanced at him through the mirror, making Dean chuckle and focus on the road ahead.

Dean couldn’t help glancing in his rearview mirror every once and a while though, finding himself watching the way Sam and Castiel looked at each other. He remembered what it was like to be with Castiel, and knew the angel already had several looks specific to only Sam. A few minutes after kicking Sam to the back, Dean realized he was happy for his brother and the angel he had come to love in more ways than one. If anyone could make it work with an angel, it’d be Sammy. 


	13. Backseat

Castiel continued to look at Sam in the backseat of the Impala. He was impressed with Sam’s control over his wings in such a short amount of time. Unable to teach Sam the proper techniques for hiding the wings at the moment, Castiel merely lifted one of his own wings across Sam’s back, shielding the wings himself. The angel wished he had focused on teaching Sam to fight with his wings, but Sam had been insistent on flying first. Cass knew every human dreamed of flying, he couldn’t blame Sam for wanting to carry that dream out in the waking world. Castiel couldn’t help but feel pride for Sam’s progress already. In a few weeks Sam would be mistaken for a graceless angel.

“What?” Sam said, noticing the angel half-smiling as he stared at the hunter.

“Nothing,” Castiel replied softly, reaching up to shift a lock of Sam’s hair out of his eyes toward the side, caressing his cheek as he dropped his hand. Sam shifted his head slightly, leaning toward Castiel’s hand.

Castiel loved that about Sam.

Sam was never one to hide his feelings, never tried to conceal his intentions. He was easy to read, easy to understand. There was no need for lingering stares, superficial touches that could be mistaken for mere friendship, hiding in the dark, whispers in case someone heard them. Everything about Sam was right there in the open, blatant for all to see, and it left a fresh taste in Castiel’s mouth. Even after Dean and Castiel had finally told Sam about them being together, they were always careful when they were in the presence of others; Dean’s fear of losing credibility or masculinity too great. But Sam…Sam didn’t care about any of that, and it was refreshing.

The angel couldn’t help himself.

He pulled forward, kissing Sam. Sam gladly joined the kiss.

“ _Guys_ ,” groaned Dean from the driver’s seat.

Hunter and angel ignored him.


	14. Vamps

“Alright,” Dean sighed as he slammed the trunk of the Impala down off the side of the road. “It’s a nest of eight. Shouldn’t be a big deal, but keep your eyes open.” Castiel and Sam nodded. Sam doused the last of the fire they had been burning, the mixture of charred skunk cabbage, saffron, and trillium covering both hunters and angel. Sam held his machete easily. Castiel had his hands by his sides and kept glancing over Sam. Dean looked at them, nodded a moment, and settled his own machete on his shoulder carefully. “Let’s do this,” he said with a large grin.

The sun was high overhead when they reached the cabin a mile down the road. Two worn trucks and a beat-up car were parked outside the cabin. Dean peaked into the car, fresh blood still gleamed wet on the backseat. “Hey,” he called softly, getting Sam’s attention.

The taller hunter looked into the car as well, mouth going into a firm line. “Let’s go,” Sam snapped, wings sharpening. He had taken off his jacket in the Impala, wanting his wings free…just in case. Castiel followed both hunters, one great wing over each of them for as long as he could, just as he had always done when he joined the brother’s hunts. He would protect both, even from vampires.

Three vampires slept in the living room of the cabin. The group silently passed them, needing to find at least half of the pack before starting to strike; otherwise they would be seriously outmatched when they started the noise. Carefully, they slipped further into the house, separating. Castiel followed Sam, shielding the hunter’s wings from sight. Two glowing soul wings would serve no purpose in this part of the hunt they all had agreed earlier.

Sam located another two in a bedroom and when he stepped into the main hall he found Dean holding out two fingers from around the corner. Sam nodded to himself. Quietly he coughed twice. Dean’s hand changed at Sam’s signal, holding out his palm toward Sam before closing quickly. Sam coughed once and the hand disappeared. Sam shifted back into the room. Castiel stood by door, serving as a lookout while Sam brought down the sharpened machete, decapitating the vampires in swift, precise strokes.

Slightly breathless, Sam wiped the blood from his eyes with the side of his shirt as he moved toward Castiel. The angel stood easily, but his eyes squinted slightly as Sam started to move out of the room. “Sam.”

Sam stopped, hearing the soft command in Castiel’s voice. A shape lurched from a room hidden by shadows, heading for the bathroom across the hall from the room they were in. The door shut as the vampire mumbled something about not drinking after dawn. Had Sam continued out the room, he would have walked right into the monster.

“Thanks Cass,” Sam breathed. Castiel merely nodded before Sam got into position.

The vampire ran right into the blade, helping his own head off his neck.

The brothers finished off the remaining vamps together, Castiel ever present as backup. As the last head rolled off the bed to the floor, Dean let out a satisfied sigh. “It’s nice when a hunt goes well,” Dean said, grinning before going through the drawers in the room. Sam shifted to the nightstand, the brothers pillaging the house for any and all valuables. Ten minutes later they had gone through everything. “Alright,” Dean sighed, settling the last of his armful into the bag he had brought in. “Let’s light this place up.”

The three walked back to the Impala, leaving behind a burning house in the middle of a gravel-filled yard.


	15. Why?

Back in the Bunker, showered and changed, Sam lazily sat outside with Castiel in the yard they had been in that morning, his wings half open in relaxation. The night was warm and the sky was mostly clear. Leaning with their backs against the wall, Sam and Castiel pressed against each other lightly, comfortable. Castiel gently shifted the hair from Sam’s eyes again and Sam was lightly stroking the angel’s thigh. The hunter’s wings glowed lightly in the darkness. They had been quiet for several minutes now, enjoying the night and the company. Fall had not yet taken its full hold over the world, so while it was still warm, there was the sense of change in the air. The animals and insects in the yard and forest beyond made soft noises, going about their business as angel and hunter watched the stars.

Finally Sam broke the silence between them. 

“So what happened to you?” Sam asked. “What were you doing these past few days?” _When you wouldn’t answer my prayers_ , was the silent addition Sam couldn’t say but Cass knew anyway.

“Heaven required me,” Castiel replied simply.

“For what?”

Castiel smiled in the near darkness, reminding himself he wasn’t speaking to Dean, the fellow soldier, but Sam, the questioner. “A team of angels required my…expertise in locating a demon and getting information from her.”

“Oh,” Sam replied softly.

Castiel shifted slightly. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Sam asked again. 

“For not coming when you called. The first time you called. The moment you called.” 

It was easy to hear the desperation in his voice. Sam squeezed Castiel's thigh gently to get him to stop talking. “Cass, it’s fine. I get it. You were busy. You couldn’t leave.”

“No,” the angel breathed, somewhat relieved, knowing it would be much harder to forgive himself. “I would have, had I been able to.”

Sam chuckled softly before shifting, planting a kiss on Castiel’s cheek. “It’s alright,” Sam breathed before raking his hand through his own hair. Castiel’s eyes gleamed as he looked at the hunter. They smiled easily at each other before instinctively pulling forward as one.

Castiel sighed into the kiss, eyes closing. Sam was warm and wanted and eager. He tasted of a warm summer day and pulled at Castiel in a desperate way that made the angel love him a little more each time he did it. The hunter was fresh, his hair still damp from the shower, the smell of bar soap mingling with old spice. Sam pressed against Castiel and maneuvered the angel off the wall. Castiel fell gently to the lawn, the grass prickling the back of his neck and through his clothes. Their legs and torsos became just as entangled as their lips and tongues, Sam hovering just above Castiel’s prone body. Castiel’s heart quickened and he felt Sam’s do the same. Sam’s wings had spread fully open now, curling and exposing, glowing brighter. Castiel let himself be shifted by Sam, their hands moving, gripping cloth and flesh alike.

A loud _snap_ sounded from the forest.

Angel and hunter stopped, turning toward the darkness of the forest. Sam’s wings went from soft and drooping to razor sharp and raised in the space of a second, his hands planting on the ground on either side of Castiel. Castiel was about to slip his angel blade out of its sheath against his arm but stopped, frozen as the angel looked up and realized Sam was protecting him. The mortal hunter protecting the ancient warrior. Castiel looked up at Sam and felt two emotions crash into him with enough force to make him breathless.

The first emotion was a deepening love for Sam. The man whose soul was too great it literally burst through his skin to form the wings that now stood ready slash and tear…loved _Castiel_.

The second emotion was a wave of self-loathing. Castiel did not deserve this man’s love. He had made too many mistakes, he had killed too many innocents. Castiel was too broken, too tainted for such a pure soul like Sam.

There was no crash of noise to indicate someone rushing forward, no further sound at all out of the ordinary. A small branch may have struck another branch by the wind, or a large animal stepped on a fallen twig.

Sam, satisfied there was no threat, let his wings soften again and they stretched toward Cass. He leaned down toward Castiel but saw the angel’s face and paused inches from his lips. “Cass, you okay?”

The angel continued to look at Sam, fighting the duality of his emotions. “Sam,” Castiel managed though his voice still broke, shifting his head slightly. “Why do you love me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut coming next chapter. Fair warning.


	16. Need

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first smut...so be gentle with the judgements...

The hunter was taken aback. He pulled away to look fully at Castiel’s face. “Cass,” he breathed, raising a hand to brush against Castiel’s cheek and jaw. He could see the angel needed an answer and struggled to put it into words. Sam pressed his palm against the side Castiel’s face, his scruff prickling the hunter’s calloused palm. “Because…” Sam started only to find the words were too much, too big; there was no way he could fully encompass the past nine years in a handful of words. “Because you’re still here. Through everything that’s happened – after Hell and Heaven, gods and demons and our own mistakes – you are still here.” Sam stroked Castiel’s jawline with his thumb, never losing sight of the cloudy blue orbs of Castiel’s eyes. “You’ve stayed with us through it all. You’ve picked humanity’s – our side – _me_ over your own sanity. You saved me in more ways than I can count without a thought for yourself. You – ”

Sam was silenced by Castiel’s lips crashing into his, tugging on the hunter’s shoulders to both pull himself up and yank Sam down. Sam’s wings flared again, soft and warm, pulling around them. There was a sensation of moving and Sam realized Castiel had flown them to his room, grass had been replaced by the simple bedspread of Sam’s bed, sounds of nature turned into the soft sounds they made as they kissed, the moonlight changing into the light from the single lamp which had turned on. Castiel kept his hands on Sam the whole time, shifting one hand from his shoulder to his wings. Sam moaned through the kiss as his brain lit up with the sensation and that was it.

The last straw.

Sam tugged on Castiel’s tie, deepening the kiss even further as he did. Castiel shifted slightly, but Sam dropped lightly on him, straddling the angel immobilizing most of him. Castiel made a soft pleasure moan and Sam smiled, dropping the tie over the edge of the bed to work on Castiel’s shirt. It seemed unfair, since Sam was already shirtless, but then Castiel raked his fingers through Sam’s feathers and Sam had to pause, afraid he’d come just from that sensation alone. His wings shuddered at the touch, mimicked by another organ that was straining at his jeans. Sam pulled forward again, desperate to remove the shirt from Castiel. Cass shifted again and Sam realized he was trying to shrug off his trench coat. Sam blinked, realizing that would need to be the first thing to come off. The hunter chuckled softly to himself, bringing Castiel’s full gaze on him. He swallowed hard before Castiel gave him a shy smile and shifted his fingers. Sam let out a long moan.

“I can’t think straight when you do that,” Sam gasped as Castiel raked through his feathers again. The angel gave an almost wicked smile before digging in deeper. Sam moaned again and broke the last four buttons of Castiel’s shirt in his desperation for skin. Castiel chuckled lightly himself before shrugging off the coat and shirt as one. Sam tugged the clothes off Castiel, throwing them over the edge of the bed as he did. He stopped a moment looking at Castiel in a way that almost brought tears to the angel’s eyes. “So this is what is under that trench coat,” breathed Sam, brushing his fingertips along Castiel’s bare chest. He could see the goosebumps rise on Castiel’s skin and got an almost sinful pride because it was his touch doing that to Cass, before he was lost in his own sensations as Castiel streaked his fingers across Sam’s feathers just as lightly.

The last of Sam’s self-control vanished.

He tugged at the belt around Castiel’s waist, unbuckling it quickly and running the zipper down. Castiel was undoing the simple button on Sam’s jeans when Sam palmed Castiel’s straining erection against the fabric of his boxer-briefs. Castiel’s breath hitched before yanking the fabric away from Sam’s own waist, tugging down both jeans and his boxer-briefs to free Sam first. Sam was only seconds behind Castiel. There was a soft breath of air and a small part of Sam realized Cass had done away with his socks and boots and they were both fully naked. Sam ducked down again, pressing himself against Castiel as he kissed him again, hot and needy.

This was familiar territory for both of them – and yet wholly new. Sam had little idea what wings would add to this and Castiel had never bedded another with wings. But there was a thrill– the knowledge of new sensations. Their eagerness to find the small places unique to their partner’s pleasure, the desire for each other’s touch was becoming overwhelming. Sam’s wings dropped over them, cocooning them slightly as they continued to kiss. They both could smell the scent from Sam’s wings now and when Sam pulled out of the kiss there was no denying Castiel’s face as he took a large breath in. Castiel dug his fingers into Sam’s wing again, this time with a single purpose.

Sam’s entire body shuddered as Castiel squeezed the oil gland lightly. Liquid beaded from it, coating Castiel’s hand in an instant. On Sam’s other wing the glands began to ooze the oil as well, running lines along Sam’s feathers, dampening them, turning their bright gold light into a muted yellow. “Cass,” Sam breathed, trying to control himself. “I won’t last three seconds if you keep doing that.” Castiel grinned before stroking the gland. Oil poured heavier from his glands, soaking his wings in thick streaks now, pre-cum wetting his erection heavily. “Ca-ass,” he moaned.

Castiel smiled before releasing the gland fully, his hand covered in the liquid as he dropped it against the bedspread. Sam took a moment to recover before wiping his hand against his wing, coating his own hand before streaking it across Castiel – starting from the angel’s right shoulder to his left hip. Castiel’s erection was wet as well and as Sam gripped it with his oiled hand Castiel gave a soft moan that ended as Sam kissed Castiel hard again. The mixture of oil and pre-cum made it very easy to slide up and down on Castiel’s firm dick and Sam had an inkling it would make a lot of other things easier too. Castiel’s hands went in different directions, one pulling up to stroke Sam’s main oil gland on his right wing, the other slipping down to rub the tip of Sam’s cock. Sam wasn’t sure which sensation was better and he really didn’t care, only wanting _more_. He made the demand clear through a moan and his wings echoed it, flaring up slightly. Castiel grinned but his own breath hitched as Sam shifted from Castiel’s erection lower, streaking along his balls and pausing just at his opening.

“Sam,” Castiel breathed and that was all Sam needed. Still slick from pre-cum and oil, Sam’s wet finger slipped into Castiel, releasing another moan from the angel. It didn’t take long for Sam to slip a second finger in, Castiel buckling lightly against Sam, causing their tips to brush against each skin. They let out a moan together and Sam made a soft noise of impatience.

“Sam,” Cass said, voice deeper than Sam had ever heard it. Sam looked at Castiel’s eyes, pupils blown wide. “You don’t have to wait.”

“Cass,” Sam started before looking down at himself, indicting his size. “You sure?”

Without warning, Castiel gripped two of Sam’s oil glands. The noise that came from Sam’s throat was inhuman and Cass let out a moan of pleasure that got a tone of temporary pain as Sam sank deeply into Castiel. The angel wrapped his legs around Sam’s hips and made swirling motions with his thumbs on Sam’s glands, making Sam shudder again.

Sam was desperate now, needing to ease the almost unbearable ache, thrusting hard into Castiel. Castiel took everything Sam gave with only moans and sighs of pleasure, not caring about the ache that was forming within him. Sam gripped Castiel again, pumping his fist in tandem with his hips, wanting Castiel to come just as much as he needed to. Castiel tugged on one of Sam’s glands and _fuck him_ it felt as if Castiel had tugged on his dick even though it was buried in Castiel’s warmth. Sam thrust harder and Castiel let out a loud moan as he hit the perfect spot. Sam pulled forward, kissing Castiel in needy nips and bites along his chest and neck. Castiel dragged his fingers along Sam’s wings sending lightning strikes across Sam’s brain and for a brief moment Sam wondered if it was possible to die from _needing_ this bad. He thrust into Castiel hard and fast, still pumping his hand on Castiel’s dick in a fading hope to get Castiel to come first. Sam’s wings drooped with the extra weight the oil had added to the now fully damp feathers, thin lines dropping from the tips of the feathers onto the side of the bed and floor. Cass let out another cry of pleasure and Sam looked at him as he did, head tilted against the bedspread, eyes closed. “Sam,” Castiel breathed, warningly, but Sam was on the edge himself and he thrust a few more times, thumbing over Castiel’s tip as he did before he felt them both release. They shook for a moment, exhausted. Sam managed to pull out and roll against the bed just before all his strength left him.

Angel and hunter gasped, side by side, each consumed in the aftershocks. Sam’s wings shuddered and Sam couldn’t help but want more, even though he could barely move. They spent several minutes like that, Castiel’s arm against Sam’s bare chest, ignoring the mess on his own chest.

Castiel had just caught his breath again when Sam’s wings pulled toward Castiel, just as Sam straddled the angel again. Sam looked Cass directly in the eyes, still breathless, glowing in sweat. “Again,” the hunter panted. His wings shifted upward, a dominating pose now – demanding and needing all at once.

Castiel smiled and reached for Sam, banishing the ache within him.

The angel never could say ‘no’ to a Winchester.


	17. Morning After

When Sam was fully sated, he fell against the bed, breathless and exhausted. He had just enough energy to crawl under the sheets with Castiel quickly following and wrapped himself around Castiel before falling asleep. Cass had cleaned them and the bedspread, leaving only the faint smell of sweat and the unique scent from Sam’s oil. Castiel smiled, kissing the hunter on his sweat-soaked forehead and shifting himself even closer to Sam before drifting into the closest thing an angel could call to sleep. It was a deep meditation, one used to restore an angels strength, grace, and if the angel wished it, to join in the meditation of his siblings.

Castiel had no desire to hear his siblings, wanting only Sam. So he lay there, bare under the covers, feeling every point Sam’s warmth melt into his own. One of Sam’s arms was around his chest, the other filling the space that was made by Castiel’s head on the pillow and the mattress. One leg was twisted slightly around the angel’s own leg. His wings were folded along his back, soft and relaxed. Sam’s breath came softly, his hair falling over his eyes as he dreamed. Castiel heaved a sigh, relishing the moment before his eyes closed and surrendered fully to the meditative state.

~

Sam woke with a soft sigh, finding the spot next to him warm for the first time in far too long. He opened his eyes to find Castiel staring at him, a look so beautiful it almost brought Sam to tears. “Hey,” he said lamely.

Castiel smiled softly at him. “Good morning,” he breathed before kissing Sam.

It was a slow kiss, warm as honey and just as sweet. Sam closed his eyes slowly, enjoying every touch Castiel gave him for a myriad of reasons. When they pulled away there was a long moment where they just looked at each other, sleepy hazel and crystal blue meeting. 

“Wow,” Sam breathed, wanting to say so much more, but unable to. Suddenly he looked concerned. “Last night...was it…? I mean, did you…?”

Castiel gave a content smile. “It was quite enjoyable,” he replied Sam’s unasked question. “It was refreshing to be the one against the mattress. With Dean – .”

“Cass,” Sam interrupted, laying a hand on the angel’s chest. “As much as I love hearing last night was good for you too, I’m really not comfortable with you comparing Dean and I in bed.”

“Of course,” Castiel replied, pinking just slightly on his cheeks. Sam kissed Cass lightly. His wings arched with his back as Sam stretched with a bleary look in his eyes. Still, he caught Castiel watching his wings. Eyes meeting Castiel said, “They’re beautiful Sam. A true reflection of your soul.”

Sam didn’t know how to respond to that and so stayed silent as he settled against the bed. “I wish you could pull out yours more often,” he finally said to the angel. “They’re gorgeous.”

“They’re weapons,” Castiel replied flatly. “Battered and worn. Nothing like yours.”

Sam propped himself back onto his elbow so he could look at Cass better. “Cass,” he started before stopping to gather his words. “They may be used as weapons but that’s not ‘just’ what they are. They’re beautiful, amazing – just like you. You gotta stop looking down on yourself.”

“Just as you and Dean should stop selling yourselves short,” Cass replied.

Sam sighed, flopping against the bed once more. “Yea,” he sighed. “Guess we all could work on that.”

Castiel pulled himself forward so he was almost touching noses with Sam. For a brief moment they just looked at each other before Cass shifted, kissing Sam softly. They stayed like that for a long time, warm and comfortable and happy.

Sam’s stomach made a loud gurgling noise, startling Sam. Castiel arched a bow at him. Sam chuckled. “Well I did skip dinner last night.” He smiled, eyes half open as he looked at Castiel. “Totally worth it,” he finished. His stomach sounded again. Sam let out a long sigh before pulling himself out of the bed.

“I hope Dean is alright with this,” Castiel said softly, letting loose the worry that had plagued him for many hours now.

Sam looked at the angel, picking up some pieces of the fallen clothing. “With us you mean?”

“Yes,” Castiel replied.

Sam shrugged. “I’m not sure,” he answered as he slipped on his underwear and jeans. “I mean, he said he was okay, but…” Sam let the sentence fall, both of them knowing Dean often said things he didn’t mean.

They looked at each other for a long moment before Sam shifted forward to lean on the bed, face a few inches away from Castiel’s. “But he _will_ get used to it,” Sam breathed.

Castiel nodded but stayed under the covers, there being no good reason for him to leave the shared warmth that was captured under the sheets.

Sam padded toward the door of his room and opened it. Then he froze.

Castiel moved out of the bed, suddenly worried. “Sam?” he called, dressing instantly and brushing his fingers against the angel blade he kept holstered. Sam bent, picking up something before turning.

In his hands was a small bucket with two unopened beers and five peanut-butter and jelly sandwiches chilling in ice.

The two looked at each other over the bucket.

Actions spoke louder than words. Sam’s grin spread slowly while Castiel’s was soft and quick. The small part of them that was twisted in worry over Dean’s reactions uncoiled.

~

“Thank you,” Sam said.

Dean blinked, looking up from the laptop to see Sam walking toward him, wings settled behind his back. “For what?” Dean asked.

Sam lifted the bucket Dean had placed in front of the door the night before.

“Oh,” Dean replied, tips of his ears reddening. “Yea.” He quickly shifted his gaze back to the screen. “Well, figured you’d be hungry.”

Sam settled the bucket beside the laptop and bent, making sure Dean looked him in the eyes. “I mean it,” Sam said. “ _Thank you._ ”

Dean cleared his throat. “Yea,” he repeated. “Well I told you I was fine with it. And I knew you’d be hungry.”

Now Sam was blushing. Dean caught the look and quickly backpedaled. “I mean, you know, since you missed dinner. You never miss meals unless you’re sick or – .”

Dean shut his mouth so hard it actually hurt a little. He cleared this throat again before turning back to the laptop.

“Anything new?” Sam asked, joining his brother in wanting a new topic.

“Na,” replied Dean. “Pretty quiet so far.”

“Wanna watch _Die Hard?_ ” Sam offered, needing to do something to thank his brother without embarrassing him.

Dean’s grin was slow but wide. He rubbed his hands together with glee. “Hell yea,” he replied.


	18. Movies and Lessons

_Die Hard_ was Dean’s number one, all-time favorite movie. So much so, he could say every line by heart and often, unconsciously, mouthed the words as the movie played. Sam enjoyed the movie, but he found himself watching those around him more than the film, gratitude and joy threatening to overwhelm the tall hunter. Castiel had joined them before the film started and was sitting beside Sam so close they shared each other’s body heat. Castiel held the bowl of popcorn in his lap, eating slowly as he watched the movie for the second time. Popcorn was one of the few things Castiel could still taste and as he had said once 'Popcorn is the food exclusively for movies.' As he ate he squinted every so often when something still didn’t make sense to him. The angel had learned the first time watching this particular movie to speak while anyone on screen was talking was the greatest sin and Sam could tell by the way the angel’s forehead scrunched he was making mental note to ask one of the hunters for clarification when the film was over. After all these years, it was still hard for Castiel to grasp Hollywood’s understanding of simple things like physics and everyday logic; although Sam couldn’t really blame him for that - some of the stunts were just too over the top.

Sam smiled, watching Castiel slowly chew. Castiel caught the hunter staring and gave a soft smile which was quickly mirrored by Sam. Overwhelmed with joy, Sam leaned closer to the angel, pulling his lips closer to taste the salt on Castiel’s lips. Castiel joined in the soft kiss willingly and they closed their eyes in bliss just as another explosion sounded from the television.

“You guys are missing the best part,” Dean said, barely glancing at them.

Angel and hunter ignored him.

Dean gave a half-smile, shaking his head before gluing his eyes back to the TV screen, mouthing the words along with John McClane.

~

“Fighting with wings takes years to fully master,” Castiel said, his hands tucked in his trench coat. He stood a few feet in front of Sam, the wind playing with their hair, clothes, and feathers (both seen and unseen). “However,” the angel continued, “the basics are rather simple.”

Sam rolled his bare shoulders forward, eager and waiting. His desire to fight with his wings was second only to his craving to fly and it since he could barely lift himself more than a few inches off the ground, Sam was more than willing to start fighting.

“Like with any weapon, you must think of it as a piece of your arsenal. Wings are literally an extension of you but if you time it wrong, you could slice into your own flesh instead of your opponent’s.”

Sam winced, definitely seeing that possibility.

Then he gasped, because Castiel’s wings were fluttering in the wind right in front of him.

Caught off guard by the sudden appearance, Sam was instantly mesmerized by the constant shifts of color the wings went through. They were smaller than before and had a sense that they weren’t fully there; Castiel just barely pressing them through the line of seen and unseen, but they were still magnificent and beautiful.

Castiel let the moment pass, enjoying the look of surprised awe on Sam’s face perhaps a little longer than necessary before sharpening his wings and raising them to an attack position. The colors shifted as the feathers sharpened, the colors darkening. Sam’s own wings started to move forward around Sam’s body, a protective position, the feathers on the back of his wings hardening. Sam noticed immediately and tried to shift them backwards, halting their progress around him but unable to put them back into the original positioning.

“Your wings will instinctively protect you,” Castiel said, softening and lowering his wings. “And while you can control them, if you are in danger or threatened it will be difficult to…persuade them otherwise. Especially since your wings were born from your soul. So pay attention to them. They can sense things you yourself will not. They will warn you of danger even if you aren’t fully aware of it.”

Sam nodded, understanding, although it was hard not to stare at Castiel’s wings. Castiel shifted them back into the unseen dimension and Sam let out a sigh of disappointment. When Castiel pulled his wings up and sharpened them again in that dimension, Sam’s wings responded in the same way, drawing a confused look from Sam before he understood and shot Castiel a look. The angel nodded and relaxed his wings again, rolling his shoulders back and mending the broken flesh to his back. “As you can see,” Castiel finished with a grin. “Now,” he began with a slight smirk, “Are you ready?”

Sam nodded, grinning before Castiel came at him, angel blade aiming for him. Sam’s right wing sharpened, aiming for Castiel while his left pulled forward, shielding most of Sam’s left side as he pulled away from Castiel’s reach, surprise on his face. Castiel grinned again, avoiding Sam’s wing easily, the blade centimeters above Sam’s other wing. 

“Good,” Castiel said before swinging toward him again.

~

The sun was just over the horizon when Castiel called the session over. They had taken only two breaks that day to eat and Sam’s back, shoulders, and…well pretty much every muscle group on his body had some protest to share with him. He let out a soft moan as they walked back into the Bunker and Castiel looked at him. Castiel wrapped his arm around Sam’s shoulders, gently pressing the feathers of Sam’s wings against his back. Sam went from aching in pain to feeling as if he had just woken up after a cup of coffee between steps. He glanced at the angel but Castiel walked just as he had, face forward. Sam swung in front of the angel and placed a kiss on his forehead. Castiel gave him a soft smile and Sam returned it, wondering just how he got so lucky…trying to ignore the nagging feeling that something horrible was just around the corner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's been a while since I updated...life got in the way  
> also OHMIGOSH 6 people like this enough to bookmark it? I LOVE YOU GUYS! ^_^  
> if you have any ideas you want to see me do with this, I'm open to suggestions! I have a few things planned, but I'd welcome ideas from others (but no promises on me putting it in). My Tumblr is the same as this account name, so hit me up sometime! ^_^


	19. Fly

It took just under a month of lessons between hunts but Castiel was a patient teacher and Sam an eager student. Now, under a full moon that lit up the chill night in all its glory, Sam was ready to reap his greatest reward; pulling himself into the sky on his own. Wings spread out, Sam couldn’t stop grinning as Castiel walked slowly around him, inspecting his feathers in a transparent ploy to draw out the anticipation. Sam shivered slightly as Castiel gently ran his fingers through a small clumping of feathers near the base of Sam’s wings, sending sparks of gold and white to streak along both wings. “You ready?” Castiel breathed, mouth beside Sam’s ear.

Sam’s grin grew wider. “You bet.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Castiel called, already several feet above Sam.

The tall hunter let loose a laugh before flicking his wings up. With a down thrust that bent all the grass under him, Sam pulled himself into the air.

Pumping hard, he pulled himself higher and higher, feeling the wind throw his hair out of his face. His laugh freed itself from him and Sam flew over the Bunker roof, speeding through the tops of the trees until he pumped up again, moving both up and west. A burst of wind came from his right and he saw Castiel flying beside him, hand out toward him. Sam grinned and spun away from the hand. 

This was their game, tag in the air. It was how Sam learned the finer techniques of flying, racing out of Castiel’s reach once he had dropped the hunter into the sky. Castiel’s eyes were bright with his own smile as he soared higher, twisting toward Sam, his invisible wings propelling him.

They raced under the full moon, unconcerned with those on the ground, too high for anyone to notice and shielded by Castiel’s power for an extra measure. It didn’t matter that Sam knew Castiel was holding back, for the angel could move from one continent to the other in the space of a blink. It didn’t matter that it was cold up there, or that the wind made Sam’s eyes water. This was a moment of happiness, unblemished by memories or future worries. This was _theirs._

Panting, Sam slowed, sweat slipping into the wind he made with his wings. Castiel’s hand clasped over Sam’s shoulder before the angel spun to face Sam, their smiles mirroring one another. They slowed further, falling closer to the ground as Sam’s exhaustion became evident. Castiel took hold of Sam with both hands and kissed him. Sam joined the kiss, forgetting to fly, but it didn’t matter. Castiel kept them both in the air as Sam slipped his hands against the base of Castiel’s skull, twisting his fingers in the angel’s black hair. Castiel deepened the kiss before pulling them both higher into the air, away from the tree tops they had been nearing from Castiel’s momentarily lack of concentration. Sam grinned through the kiss before twisting a wing, forcing them into a corkscrew as they rose. Castiel pulled away from the hunter to grin before Sam let out another laugh and untangled his fingers from Castiel. 

Suddenly energetic again, Sam pumped harder, pushing himself higher and higher until he could barely breathe. Leveling off, he found Castiel in front of him. Hands tucked in his trench coat pockets, the angel looked as if he were standing on solid ground instead of several hundred feet in the air, watching Sam with a knowing smile. Castiel’s trench coat tails and collar moved with the movement of his invisible wings and Sam couldn’t help but smile again, feeling the night air breeze past him.

Sam’s eyes sparkled and he turned, folding his wings as he did. Suddenly he was plummeting toward the earth, wings thrown back by the force, Sam’s laugh streaming behind him as the air yanked it from his mouth. The hunter spread out his arms, feeling the full brunt of the air now, still laughing. 

Several dozen feet from the ground, Sam opened his wings again, letting the air fill them before pumping up again, feet almost brushing the river before he flew up again. He spun as he went up and just passed the tops of the nearby trees before exhaustion hit him. 

Sam reached for Castiel, and the angel immediately appeared, wrapping his arms around Sam before flying up and east. Sam shifted to look Castiel in the eyes. The hunter’s hazel eyes sparkled in the light. “That was amazing,” he breathed.

Castiel smiled before planting a kiss on the man’s forehead. He settled them in the backyard of the Bunker where they had started. Sam’s legs held him for a moment before he started to drop. Castiel gripped him tighter before settling the tall hunter against his own bed.

“I’m fine,” Sam insisted, gently pulling Castiel’s hands off his shoulders, wrapping the angel’s hands in his own before he pulled Castiel closer to kiss him again.

It might have progressed into something different if Sam’s stomach hadn’t growled like an angry bear. Sam yanked away, blushing in embarrassment. “Geez, sorry,” he said, raking a hand through his hair.

Castiel looked at him, amused. “You’re fine,” he said, eyes sparkling. “You’ve never flown that long or hard. Can you stand?”

“Sure,” Sam replied, settling his feet on the ground and stood…and then fell, the mattress springs groaning under his sudden weight. His wings splayed out under him and Sam made a face. He looked like an upturned turtle – with some wings glued on the shell of course. 

Castiel struggled to keep the smile off his face and arched an eyebrow. “Dinner in bed?” he suggested.

Sam grinned.


	20. Peace for an Angel

Castiel lay there in the bed, Sam breathing softly in sleep against him. Sam slept in sweatpants and a light t-shirt, a warm heat under the sheets. Castiel had removed his shoes, tie, and coat to curl up against Sam before the hunter fell asleep. Even after all these years, Castiel couldn’t bring himself to wear something different just to sleep in. Dean had teased him for it, but the angel simply couldn’t do it. Sam, bless him, had never mentioned it, simply lifting his arm to make room for Castiel to slip beside him. Yet another difference between brothers.

Castiel squeezed his eyes shut to stop his mind from going down a path he had no wish to go down. Instead he focused on Sam’s face earlier that night, looking like a child hovering in the sky, wings tilting to catch the buffet of wind. Castiel smiled, letting his breath out softly. There was something truly beautiful watching the Winchesters freed of worry and Castiel was honored to be a part of something that did that for them. Sam’s delight was evident in everything he did that night, conscious and not.

Castiel smiled before watching Sam sleep. _This is true peace_ , the angel thought, his breath matching Sam’s unconsciously.


	21. Unwanted Memories

It happened suddenly. One moment, Castiel was battling Sam during what had become a routine training session in the morning in the yard behind the Bunker, the next he was in the middle of a battle that had long since passed.

Heaven was drenched in the blood of angels’ vessels and fallen grace, liquefied as it drained from dead and dying angels themselves. Castiel sliced through the angel that would have killed him, taking off her wing before stabbing her through the throat. Raphael flew over the battleground, roaring anger as he came at Castiel with the full ferocity of an archangel. Castiel leapt back, away from the blow that would have burst his body into pieces, and – 

Suddenly they were screaming. Dying by a single look. Castiel was full, overflowing with power from the souls he had taken from Purgatory. Castiel killed them in great swaths, those who had fought alongside Raphael; he would destroy them all, whether they hid from him or tried to fight him. Then, when that task was done, perhaps he would raise Adam from the Cage, something easily done now. But first, the angels. They screamed – 

And suddenly it was just one short scream, from a female human, quickly cut off into a strangled choke. Through blood-soaked sight, Castiel could see her, his hands squeezing her throat. Rage filled him, blinding every other thought until a vaguely familiar voice had called out from the other side of the room.

“Cass? Cass! CASTIEL! CASS!”

Castiel started, breathing heavily. Sam stood before him, one hand on his shoulder. A fresh wound bled sluggishly on his left wing, but Sam only had eyes for Castiel. “Cass?” Sam asked again. 

The angel panted, finding himself on the grassy ground, his back against the stone wall near the Bunker. The memories drained away, leaving Castiel filled with adrenaline and a myriad of negative emotions. “Sam,” he said, looking into the hunter’s eyes. 

Sam crouched beside him, looking him in the eyes. “Hey,” he said voice shaking slightly. “You back with me?” 

It took a few more seconds before the angel was fully back in the present and when he did, his self-loathing doubled. “Oh Sam,” he said, reaching out for the wound on Sam's wing. 

The wing shied away from Castiel’s touch and the angel’s hand dropped.

“It’s fine,” Sam assured him, concern still in his eyes as he searched Castiel face for something he could not find. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Castiel nodded. “Yes. Fine.” He stood but Sam’s hand only gripped him tighter.

“You sure?” Sam asked.

Castiel nodded. “Just…some unwelcome memories,” he replied before reaching for Sam’s injured wing. “Let me take care of that.”

Sam obeyed, stretching the wing slightly, wincing as he did. Castiel laid a hand on the gash, healing it in a moment. The wound was light, it didn’t even leave a scar, for which Castiel was grateful. He would have never forgiven himself had he been the one to first mark Sam’s precious wings.

“Cass…” Sam wanted to say more but Castiel merely bent, picking up his blade from where it had fallen.

“I’m sorry,” the angel said. His heart heavy and his mind in several directions, Castiel wasn’t sure what to do. He turned to Sam. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated. “I…I have to go.”

“No, wait Cass,” Sam started but Castiel was gone with a soft sound of wings, leaving Sam worried and alone, staring at the clouding over sky.


	22. For Sam

Castiel flew, hard and fast, no destination in mind. No, indeed his mind was too focused on the memories that had surfaced so fast it had left Sam to defend himself against a half-crazed angel. He was lucky he was still alive. Castiel knew some angels suffered from PTSD but it was exceedingly rare. Of course Castiel would have it, nothing was truly angel about him anymore. He had too much humanity within him, from the moment he had been created, the ‘crack’ in his makeup that Naomi had referred of those years ago. Castiel growled in the air, swiping his sharpened wings at the air, slashing the wind and dropping slightly because of their changed weight. Cold blasted him and he looked down, seeing the Arctic Ocean below him. The angel dove down, breaking open the surface of the water and diving further, his wings slicing the water as they did the air. Bubbles cascaded around him, bursting quickly or staying in shape to make the journey to the surface. Castiel didn’t stop until he felt his flesh ache, in water just on the edge of darkness. The angel spun mid-stroke, his left side dipping into darkness, his right touched by the weak light that managed it’s way this far down. 

Angels had no need for oxygen and Castiel could keep his body alive for several minutes without it. He stayed there, between light and dark, lost in thought. 

Forgiveness was never meant for an angel to have for themselves. They gave it freely to mankind, for humanity was the beloved species of God, but it had never gone well for the angels that so desperately needed it. God had forgiven Lucifer and Alastair for their sins, and both turned against Him. It was only when God revoked their forgiveness and bound them both – Lucifer to the Cage, Alastair just below the mantel of the Earth – that order was restored as best as it could. Castiel let himself drift further down into the darkness, the ache of his flesh pressing but ignored. He closed his eyes, the freezing water stabbing and smooth all at once. He was worthless if he harmed those he loved, and he had done that too many times to count. Perhaps it was better just to stay here in the cold darkness, unable to hurt them…until he just stopped…

Then Sam’s laugh filled the space around him. Castiel opened his eyes. Memories filled the blackness Castiel had let himself fall into. Sam sleeping peacefully – in the backseat of the Impala, against a worn couch, in his own bed. Sam’s smiles, the ‘blink and you’ll miss them’ grins, the long-lasting beams, his eyes shining in mirth.

_For Sam._

Castiel twisted in the water, orienting himself only because he was an angel, and pulled himself up. Light, weak at first but growing steadily brighter with each down stroke of Castiel’s wings, filled the angel’s vision, coupled with Sam’s laugh, with his face filled with delight – the wind pushing his hair out of his eyes, with the sensation of the hunter’s fingers gently holding Castiel’s hand, fingers intertwining against the mattress.

Castiel burst from the water, his lungs gulping air. He flew south, not bothering to dry himself, most of the water ripped away by the force of Castiel’s wings. Sam was walking slowly toward the Bunker entrance, face, shoulders, wings, and a dozen other little things Castiel could notice silently voicing his worry.

Castiel dropped in front of Sam, water dropping from the ends of his hair and edges of his clothes. Sam jerked back, wings sharpening only to immediately soften, just like his hazel eyes. “Cass…?” he started before realizing he had no idea what to ask first.

The angel moved forward, lips claiming Sam’s, who yielded immediately. Sam gripped Castiel’s coat lapels, ignoring the cold water.

When they pulled away, Sam kept his grip on Castiel’s clothes. He wasn’t about to let his angel fly off again. “Talk to me,” he begged softly.


	23. Trigger

Castiel slowly pulled out of the fog that was his meditative state, only to find himself enveloped in another way. The angel smiled, blinking slowly as he lifted his fingers to brush the wing that was draped over his shoulder and part of his face. The room was dimly lit by those same wings. 

Sam’s wings. 

Castiel’s smile was soft as he fondled the feathers just in front of his face with the barest of touches. Sam’s wings were still extremely sensitive and Castiel loathed the idea of waking the hunter. But he could not stop himself from touching those beautiful wings. Sam’s arm was draped over the angel’s hip and it twitched slightly as Castiel’s fingers shifted against Sam’s feathers. Castiel paused, listening to the sound of Sam’s breath just above his head. The angel breathed in the scent of Sam. The warmth of the hunter bled through Castiel’s clothes to wrap the angel further in _Sam Winchester_. Castiel let out a sigh, thanking whoever bothered listening for the hunter. 

Sam had listened to Castiel as he had explained his behavior, face and eyes filled with concern and understanding. The hunter had dealt with both Dean’s and his own experiences, he knew all too well about such episodes. “We’ll get through this,” Sam had said with that tone of sincere reassurance he had. Then he had held Castiel tightly, unconcerned by the cold water that lingered on the angel. And he hadn't really let go of Castiel since. With no hunting prospects for Heaven or Earth, angel and hunter spent the day together. Lounging in the library, finally finishing The Wire in Sam’s room, cataloguing the endless information the Men of Letters had gathered – Sam always managed to be beside Castiel. He was a source of warmth and comfort, having perfected the art of being there for those he loved almost without them noticing. Castiel, of course, did notice, but he appreciated the act openly – reaching for Sam when he needed him. Dean knew the look on Sam’s face and said nothing about it, instead heading to the garage and giving one of the leftover cars a ride down to a nearby supply store. 

Castiel breathed in deeply again, letting his hand fall. He shifted closer to Sam, who sighed in his sleep. Castiel smiled and closed his eyes. Sam’s arm flexed, wrapping around Castiel tighter. Then the hunter made a soft moan, waking. Sam realized what he was doing to Castiel and snuggled his face against the angel’s hair.

“Good morning,” Castiel greeted softly.

“Morning,” breathed Sam before planting a soft kiss on Castiel’s head.

The angel turned to face Sam as the hunter yawned, lifting his hand to brush his own hair out of his eyes, his wing still draping over Castiel. He blinked sleepily at the angel. “Hi,” Sam said.

Castiel smiled and rested a hand on the side of Sam’s face. Sam shifted into the touch, smiling softly back, sleep still in his eyes. “Sleep well?” Castiel asked.

Sam nodded. “And your meditation?”

“I am well rested,” Castiel replied. Sam nodded again before pulling forward and rubbing his nose against Castiel’s. The angel smiled, doing the same to Sam before Sam pulled away just far enough not to see double. The hour was still early. Neither really wanted to get up, so they didn’t. Castiel gently fondled Sam’s wing, causing Sam to shuddering lightly. He shifted his wing closer and Castiel smiled before dropping his hand to the small space between them. Sam made circles in the angel’s open palm as Castiel gently preened Sam’s sleep-mussed feathers.

“Cass,” Sam started several minutes later.

Castiel looked into Sam’s eyes, waiting for the rest of the question. When Sam continued to hesitate, the angel prompted, “Yes?”

Sam swallowed hard. “Would…could…could you show me your wings again? Without hurting yourself?”

Castiel shifted, pulling himself onto his elbow. “You see my wings when I train you,” he said confused.

It was true. For the past few weeks, Castiel had lightly pressed his wings against the walls of dimensions so Sam could practice fighting with another angel or winged creature. It was more the outline of his wings than anything, a middle ground between the wings being fully hidden and physically manifested. This meant Sam could see them enough to fight them and Castiel’s vessel was not pained by them.

“Yea,” Sam said, mirroring Castiel’s action. “But…I…I want to…I want to touch them like you touch mine.”

Castiel was silently, eyes on Sam’s face.

“You don’t have to bring them out fully or whatever,” Sam continued quickly. “Just…enough for me to…”

Sam stopped as Castiel turned away from Sam to put his feet over the side of the bed. His shirt was rumpled from lying in the bed but it fell into place as Castiel stood. At first Sam thought he had offended Castiel and he opened his mouth to try to rectify it, only for Castiel to turn to face Sam again. Concentration marked his features and Sam quickly pulled himself out of the bed to stand and move in front of the angel. Sam reached out his hand toward Castiel, who took it, squeezing against the pain before Castiel’s wings spread out behind his back.

They were small, only about two feet either way. But they were still beautiful. Colors splashed across the feathers as always, brilliant compared the muted tones Sam had seen them for so long. Castiel released Sam, the pain minimal now. Gently, Sam lifted the hand to brush against Castiel’s gently, shifting feathers just as Castiel had done to his wings earlier. The wing shuddered slightly, curling out for Sam.

With a little more force then he really meant to, Sam launched toward Castiel’s lips as he thumbed a few feathers with one hand. Castiel joined the kiss, his hands reaching for Sam’s face. Sam’s wings curled forward, the tips streaking down Castiel’s slowly; the first time they had ever truly touched.

It had been years since any wing had touched Castiel’s. And the last time it had been a soft brush of a wingtip by Balthazar…the night he died.

A tight knot formed in Castiel’s grace. Instantly a weight fell on Castiel and he pulled away from Sam, other images bleeding across his vision now. Balthazar collapsed as Castiel pulled the blade out of his brother’s back. Raphael burst into atomic bits at Castiel’s snap. Dean knelt before Castiel bloody and broken in Lucifer’s crypt. Castiel’s hand buried into Sam’s chest, reaching for his soul as Lucifer cackled. 

Castiel closed his eyes, breath short and fast. Sam stopped his wings, looking at the angel. “What’s wrong?” 

“I’m sorry,” Cass whispered, hands and wings shaking.

Sam wasn’t sure if the apology was for him or someone else the way Cass said it. But he could sense the shift in the mood easily enough. “Cass,” breathed Sam. Blue eyes opened, hazed in pain. Sam shifted, looking at him fully. Castiel was now shaking violently. Sam put one hand on Castiel’s shoulder and the other on his arm in case he fell. “Cass, what’s wrong?”

“I’ve done so much wrong,” Castiel said, closing his eyes again, his hands clutching to try to stop shaking. “I’ve tried…so hard to…to fix what I’ve done. But…for every right choice… I’ve made…six wrong ones.”

“Hey,” Sam breathed, cupping the angel’s jaw. “Don’t say that. We’ve all made mistakes. What makes us different is we try to fix what we’ve done.”

Castiel shook his head and his wings wrapped around him before vanishing into the unseen dimension. His breath was still coming hard and fast but he had stopped shaking. “No,” Castiel forced, eyes still closed. “Nothing…I can do…can bring them back. Nothing…I can do…can truly repair what I’ve done to Dean or you. I almost killed you both. And…you…your soul…Lucifer…”

“Castiel,” Sam said sharply, gripping Castiel tighter. “Look at me.”

The angel obeyed, looking up at Sam like the wounded creature he was. Sam shifted, moving closer to Castiel until he was nearly touching noses with the angel. “You are forgiven.” Castiel’s eyes widened as Sam continued. “I _forgive_ you. I forgave you a long time ago. And no matter what happens, I will _always_ forgive you.”

Castiel’s eyes widened further.

Sam was unprepared when the angel to begin to weep. Clutching Sam’s shirt like his life depended on it; Castiel buried his head into Sam’s chest, sobbing openly. Startled, Sam was frozen a moment before he wrapped both arms and wings around the angel, pressing Castiel closer.

The angel sobbed for a minute before managing to reign himself in enough to gasp out, “You…are…too…perfectly…human.”

Sam smiled, his eyes still closed. He shifted slightly, lips brushing Castiel’s ear. “I love you,” he breathed. 

Castiel gripped Sam tighter, cocooned by Sam in two layers. For a moment, he felt truly safe, protected. Suddenly reminded of the moment his consciousness began, Castiel breathed in. This was what it felt like to be protected, to be deeply and openly loved. The angel had forgotten this feeling. “Thank you,” he said softly… to Sam, to his Father wherever He was, to the Universe Herself. 


	24. Dream World

Sam kept quiet about Castiel’s wings afterward. As much as he adored seeing them, Sam had no wish to cause Castiel distress and it seemed to be a trigger for him. Meanwhile they continued to train mornings whether they were on a hunt or at the Bunker.

Sam was still having trouble hiding his wings, preferring to hide them under his clothes. Unlike Castiel, he couldn’t simply move his wings into the dimension Castiel used. He had to shift the light from the wings, pulling them out of the spectrum of sight, and not just human’s but vampire and werewolf as well. The task took a considerable amount of concentration, leaving him open to a few ambushes. The first time he had tried he almost lost a chunk of his neck to a werewolf that crept up on them while the brothers were bringing down the majority of the pack.

Castiel had assured both brothers it would get easier for Sam once he had done it enough, but Sam didn’t do it during hunts anymore. And it seemed after giving the hunters a week-long break they were making up for lost time. For nearly a solid month Dean and Sam were hunting various low-level creatures – pissed off spirits, the odd wendigo, a few packs of werewolf, and several more nests of vampires. Castiel came and went, Heaven requiring him from time to time. Sometimes he would fly ahead to investigate and scout. Other times he stayed at the Bunker, ready to do research should the hunt require a little more know-how.

As Dean drove that late November day, Sam figured it had been about 36 days since he had actually seen Castiel. He sighed softly, figuring that was why his heart ached for him so much. He looked out the passenger window, not wanting Dean to make fun of his ‘sad puppy’ look he had been sporting for the past week and a half. 

Sam wondered if calling Castiel the third time in the last hour was even worth it and decided against it. He was obviously unavailable and Sam had no wish to disturb him, especially if he was in the middle of something.

Dean grumbled as the Impala slid on the iced road, the sun’s dip under the horizon just making it past the thick cloud cover that had followed the hunters for two states.

They had released another ghost from his ties to the world earlier that day and Dean always wanted to make it back to the Bunker to sleep in his own bed when a hunt was finished. Unfortunately, what had started as drenching cold rain had slipped into a snowy mix and left all outside surfaces slick. This was the fourth time nature had wrested control of the Impala from under Dean’s hands and Sam could tell it was annoying his brother to increasingly higher degrees. “Dean,” Sam started, turning to look at his brother, “maybe we should try for a motel.”  


Dean glared at the windshield as it snowed harder. “Yea,” he grumbled, flicking the wipers on and turning up the heat a notch higher. “First one we see.”  


Forty minutes later the brothers opened their motel room, brushing the snow off their clothes as they entered. Dean flicked on the lights and let out a long sigh as he saw the furniture.  


Sam was just glad the room was warm and the beds had thick covers. He always hated sleeping in all his layers. The heat of the room and the thick covers meant Sam could sleep in his t-shirt and jeans, his socks over his boots and other layers laid over the duffle bag he always brought with him on hunts.

It didn’t take long before both brothers were asleep.

There was a moment where Sam could have sworn he felt feathers against his neck before he opened his eyes. 

Castiel stood in front of him. “Hello Sam,” the angel said.

“Cass,” Sam greeted before looking around. They were in some white place with no defined borders. They were the only things there. Castiel stuck his hands in the trench coat’s pockets, unconcerned. “So uh…where are we?” Sam asked, looking back at the angel.

“A space of my own making,” Castiel replied. “A…dream world of sorts. You are still physically in that motel room. But in every other way you are here. With me.”

Sam looked at Castiel with raised eyebrows. “And you brought me here because?”

Castiel’s gaze softened. “I missed you.”

Sam grinned. “I missed you too.” He stepped forward, kissing the angel gently. Castiel’s hands quickly reached up, bunching Sam’s shirt in his fists, tugging him forward. There was a soft, familiar noise and Sam opened his eyes to find Castiel’s wings fully extended. Surprised, Sam pulled out of the kiss to look at the angel’s face. Castiel looked at him with mild surprise before catching a glance at his wings.

“Oh yes,” Castiel added. “And, here, my wings can manifest painlessly.”

Sam knew his mouth was open but he didn’t care. Castiel’s wings were huge, two or three times larger than Sam had ever seen them. Colors spilled across the massive wings, shades and hues weaving and dancing as constant as the thoughts that created them.

“They are still smaller than they truly are, it would be ridiculous to have them their true size with my vessel being this size,” Castiel continued. “Just as I can’t show you my true form. It would still hurt you, even in this state. But they are much closer to – ”

Castiel’s sentence snapped off as Sam buried his fingers in Castiel’s right wing. The hunter watched the color spark from his touch, rich and vibrant, spreading from his hand to touch every feather. He noted with a half grin when the wings tilted back, revealing the softest feathers. Then his brain split with pleasure as Castiel dove his fingers into Sam’s own wings.

“Shit,” Sam breathed, feeling his wings mirror Castiel’s.

Castiel wasted no time, dragging his fingers through Sam’s wings, making Sam throw back his head and groan. His wings were still extremely sensitive and Castiel’s touch was anything but light. Heat sparked from Castiel’s touch to pool at his groin.

“Caaaaassssss,” Sam moaned.

Castiel chuckled before kissing Sam’s neck. “I said I missed you,” the angel cooed. “All of you.”

Sam bared his neck further, almost forgetting his fingers were still buried in Castiel’s wing. But just as Castiel’s lips pressed against Sam’s neck again, Sam dragged his fingers down.

Castiel let out a moan and in that moment Sam knew he could dish out just what he was getting. The thought made the hunter smile. He pulled his fingers down further, searching. Sam’s breath hitched when Castiel let one hand fall from Sam’s wing to sweep down Sam’s front, stopping to brush against Sam’s jeans. Castiel grinned, Sam could feel his lips curl against his neck and the angel crocked his fingers against Sam’s hardening cock through the jeans and boxers. Sam doubled his search through Castiel’s wing, hearing the soft sounds of pleasure from Castiel even as the angel continued to kiss up and down Sam’s neck, nibbling from time to time.

Finally Sam found it, the small lump in otherwise smooth softness. He pressed it between his forefinger and thumb.

The result was Castiel shuddering so hard Sam thought the angel was going to collapse. “Oh Sam,” Castiel breathed, voice soaked in pleasure. Sam stroked the weeping oil gland gently, causing the fluid to come faster. Sam already knew his wings were weeping his own oil, the scent coming on after just a few touches of Castiel’s lips. He took a long breath in, smelling the mixture of his oil with Castiel’s and immediately felt as if he were in a sun soaked forest in summertime. When he took his sight off Castiel’s brightening wings, he realized that’s exactly where they stood now, thick green grass under their feet, huge trees swaying around them.

Sam pulled away from Castiel, his hands dropping.

Castiel looked up at him and smiled. “Like it?” Castiel asked. Sam nodded. “It’s as much your dream as mine,” Castiel told him. Sam looked at Castiel and smiled.

“Anywhere with you is perfect,” Sam breathed.

The angel’s gaze softened further before he moved forward again, kissing Sam. Sam eagerly joined it, the combined scents of their oil acting as an aphrodisiac. Sam raised his hands again, digging through Castiel’s feathers for the mere pleasure of it. Castiel moaned in their kiss and his fingers deftly found one of Sam’s glands. Sam let out a long groan. He let one hand drop from Castiel’s wing to pay Castiel’s dick the same complement Castiel had given him. Castiel pulled away, breathing out before looking at Sam. His pupils were wide now, breathing heavier than he was a moment ago. Sam grinned before reaching for Castiel’s tie.

“No,” breathed the angel before leaping forward, knocking Sam to the ground. Castiel’s half-hard cock slapped against Sam and the hunter was both startled and pleased to find he and Castiel were now naked, Sam’s bare skin against the grass. Castiel dipped lower, massive wings spread out, spilling colors in a faster tandem, straddling Sam just below his cock. Sam moaned as Castiel’s teeth teased at his nipple, one hand brushing against Sam’s wing while the other was planted on the grass just under Sam’s right wing. Castiel brushed against Sam’s quickly hardening cock as he moved. Sam pulled his hands up, delving both of them in Castiel’s wings, stroking with and against the quickly wetting feathers. Sam’s were streaked already, his scent only riling Castiel more, if the angel’s urgent kissing and light biting all over Sam’s neck and collarbone had anything to say about it. Sam made note of several more of Castiel’s glands, making Castiel’s nip along Sam’s neck just a little harder each time he found one. Sam found he enjoyed watching Castiel’s colored wings darken from the liquid. Castiel kissed his lips hard, biting Sam’s lower lip gently. Sam shifted his fingers through Castiel’s wing and found a gland, squeezing it gently. Castiel moaned again and Sam’s sight burst into sparks as Castiel gripped two of his glands, pressing the swelling glands to release a great burst of liquid, rising over Sam on his knees slightly. Sam’s hands dropped and he wondered if he could come just from the sensations Castiel was causing in his wings.

Then Castiel released Sam and pulled a wing closer to them, dragging his fingers over his own slick wing. He let his hand fall gently on Sam’s chest, over the hunter’s heart, pressing his oiled hand there for a long moment, looking into Sam’s eyes deeply.

“Forever marked as my own,” Castiel breathed.

Sam’s breath grew even heavier and he shifted a hand to cup Castiel’s cheek as they looked each other in the eyes.

Then Castiel’s hand lifted from Sam’s right wing, brushing against Sam’s chest, dancing lower until he reached the small bundle of pubic hair Sam left there. Sam let out a soft moan as Castiel’s fingers curled along the small hairs there. Sam raised a hand to delve into Castiel’s feathers again and Castiel dipped his wings to give Sam better access.

Sam’s hard when Castiel grips him gently. Sam’s breath caught as he felt Castiel’s fingers slid down his shaft slowly, his other hands stroking one of Sam’s lowest wing glands. “I’m not gonna last long if you keep doing that,” Sam managed.

“Don’t care,” Castiel breathed heavily. “Want you.”

Sam was taken aback slightly by Castiel’s forwardness but in an enjoyable way, a half grin emerging before Sam let out another moan. Not to be outdone, Sam raised a hand, wrapping it around Castiel’s own hard dick and digging through the angel’s feathers to find a gland of his own.

The moan that came from Castiel is so hot Sam has to take a breath to attempt to steady himself. Castiel’s wings slapped lightly against Sam’s sides, leaving behind streaks of his oil on Sam’s skin to blend with Sam’s own oil.

Both of their wings were soaked now, dripping off the tips of their feathers to fall onto the grass and over their skin. Combined with their precome, it was achingly easy to please one another. But Sam wanted more.

“Cass,” breathed Sam before bucking into Castiel’s hand at Castiel’s thumb slicked over his tip and an oil gland at the same time.

“What?” Castiel asked, dipping to nibble Sam’s ear, losing his grip on Sam’s dick but adding more pressure to the gland he was thumbing.

“Want _you_ ,” Sam managed, earning a grin from Castiel. The angel shifted and Sam let him go, pulling up his knees to give Castiel better access. Castiel’s soaked wing came closer again and Castiel wet his fingers further with the oil. He kissed Sam once more on the lips before his fingers dragging down to play with Sam’s balls a moment before going after what they sought. Sam’s breath hitched a little as Castiel plunged the first finger in him. It took only a few strokes before Castiel moved a second finger within Sam, scissoring Sam in a blissfully aching way. Castiel’s other hand played between Sam’s sensitive left wing and skin. Castiel peppered Sam with light kisses and long licks, Sam doing his best not to buck too much. Three fingers in and Sam was struggling not to beg now. He did his best to stroke what he could reach of Castiel’s wings but the sensations were getting too much, and he was losing the ability to do anything but moan under Castiel – who seemed to get plenty of pleasure from that alone.

Finally Sam couldn’t take it any longer. “Cass,” he begged.

It seemed that was all that needed to be done, for in a moment Castiel’s fingers left him. Sam felt the emptiness immediately and looked at Castiel in silent pleading. Castiel dipped his hand in his wings again before smearing his cock with the slick oil. He looked at Sam, who nodded eagerly, pulling his knees closer to his chest. There were a few moments as Castiel pressed against Sam, short strokes in and out that did nothing to sate Sam until the hunter moaned another beg. With a rush of breath, Castiel was in Sam. Both let out a long sigh. Sam wrapped his legs around Castiel’s waist. Castiel’s wings draped around Sam and pulled him up slightly so Sam was at a half-sitting position. They locked eyes and Sam pulled forward to kiss Castiel. Castiel deepened the kiss before leaning against Sam, his wings slowly letting Sam back against the ground as Castiel gently rocked into Sam.

Sam took hold of one of Castiel’s hands, linking fingers with him. Their free hands went to each other’s wings, carding through the feathers, from time to time thumbing a swollen gland among the feathers. Castiel hit the perfect spot and Sam bucked, moaning. Knowing the angle now, Castiel’s rhythm grew faster. Three solid hits was all Sam could last and he came hard, with Castiel’s name on his lips and eyes squeezed closed. The fluid splattered against the grass and Sam’s chest only to disappear a moment later.

Castiel pounded faster, on the edge himself. He let Sam’s wings alone, feeling the warmth from Sam and began to tip over the edge. He let out a short cry.

Sam felt Castiel come within him and he opened his eyes, looking at the angel. Castiel’s head was thrown back, his own eyes closed, his back and wings arched, sweat gleaming off his bare skin. In the brief moment where there was nothing but bliss, Castiel’s wings revealed their true color, a deep black tinged with just enough blue for Sam to notice its faint presence. Sam knew he had never seen anything as perfectly beautiful as this moment.

Castiel pulled forward, eyes opening before falling against Sam’s chest, his wings falling against Sam’s splayed ones. They shook together, aftershocks rocking them, enjoying the sensation of being together.

After a few minutes, Sam realized he was falling asleep. “Cass,” he whispered. Castiel shifted to look him in the eyes.

“Yes Sam?”

“That was amazing.”

Castiel grinned. “Indeed,” he breathed before shifting forward and kissing Sam lazily.

“Can…can we fall asleep here,” Sam asked. “Since we’re already sort of in a dream world?”

Castiel’s low chuckle bounced against Sam’s chest. “You’re supposed to actually,” Castiel replied. “Falling asleep here is kind of like… resetting yourself, so you end up with your physical body again.”

“Oh,” Sam breathed. “Good.” Castiel grinned.

“Do…do we have to separate then?” Sam asked a few minutes later.

Castiel looked at him. “Not unless you want to.”

Sam replied by hooking his legs around Castiel’s legs and wrapping his arms around Castiel tighter. Castiel chuckled again, warming Sam to his very soul. Their wings moved seemingly of their own accord, wrapping both of them in a bundle of feathers and the combined scents of their oils.

Sam slept deeply for the first time in a month.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. Well hope it was worth the wait. I may wrap this baby up after another four or five chapters - but no promises either way. I've got two more mini plots written but I have go figure out how to connect them. Thanks for sticking with me so far, hope y'all are liking it!


	25. Snatched

Ten days later Dean followed as quickly as he could behind Sam, who was chasing a shape shifter along the alleys of a city in Illinois. Sam ran, his long legs carrying him quickly to close the distance between him and the shifter. His wings were out of their harness, half-open and every once in a while Sam would use them, gaining more speed or leaping over one of the obstacles the shifter was throwing in his path. He couldn’t fly – if anyone happened to see him they’d surely report it and they didn’t need cops showing up, so he kept to the ground. 

Dean was merely chasing after them because he had the gun now, dropped after the first strike of the outed shifter caught Sam square in the chest. The taller hunter had been knocked into the wall and the gun toward Dean. Dean, not about to be outdone by his little brother – wings or not – doggedly kept up the chase, waiting for his clear shot to bury a silver bullet in the shifter’s heart.

They took another turn and Dean puffed out another breath, annoyance in the cloud that came from his mouth. He followed, seeing a long alleyway and only one way out besides the way they came in. Dean slowed, lining up the shot he knew he’d get now. Sam’s wings glinted in the night as he flicked them down again, gaining speed and closing the distance between the shifter. He reached out, hand nearly touching the monster.

Dean stopped completely, aiming where he knew the shifter would turn to avoid Sam.

Suddenly there was a noise of pain and a body dropped directly in Dean’s sight.

Castiel scrambled to his feet, his coat ripped and blood pooling the ground under him. “Sam stop!” he shouted, voice filled with fear.

Sam slowed, turning at the sound of Castiel’s voice. His wings stiffened, curling around him in a protective manner. Then he and the shifter disappeared, swallowed, it seemed, by the alleyway itself.

“Sam!” Dean shouted as Castiel fell to his knees. Dean raced to the angel’s side to see the deep wounds on Castiel’s face and torso. Castiel panted a moment before healing himself and his clothes, standing moments later.

“What the hell just happened?” Dean asked the angel.

Castiel opened his mouth to speak when a mangled body shot out of the sky, landing under the streetlight Sam had raced past only seconds before. Dean moved forward, crouching at the body. Flesh hung off the bone, looking as if it had been stripped like jerky. There was enough cloth on it for Dean to recognize it belonged to the shifter. His face went hard and he turned to see Castiel standing beside him, a grave look on his own face.

“Start explaining,” Dean managed over the knot of fear and anger in his throat, hands balling into fists.

“I was tracking a species that should have been dead a long time ago,” Castiel started, not looking at Dean, but instead focusing on the space where the body had come from. “There had been rumors a trio were still alive. I was tracking them. I didn’t realize it, but they were tracking something else…someone else.” Blue eyes met green. “They were tracking Sam. I don’t know why,” Castiel continued before the hunter could fully open his mouth to ask. 

“All I know is they were following him. As soon as I realized it, I came here, but they…”

Castiel paused, looking away. The angel let out his breath in a huff. “You have to understand. These creatures are old, and have learned a great deal about angels. To have lasted as long as they have…they must know some things that only Metatron knew. By the time I got here they had already created a barrier.”

“You could have warned us!” Dean snapped.

Castiel looked at him and the hunter saw the pain in the angel’s eyes. “I tried. I couldn’t have gotten here any faster. They were ready for me. They must have known I was close.”

“So what’s up with this guy?” Dean asked, nudging the clearly eaten corpse at their feet.

“They are scavengers, eating off anything to survive, usually monsters. That’s how they’ve managed to avoid detection for so long.”

“So what’s to say they don’t get Sam too?” 

“If they were tracking him they want him for something.”

Dean’s face went hard again. 

“I’ll find Sam,” Castiel said. “Don’t worry.”

“You were supposed to be watching him,” Dean growled.

“Dean, I can’t be everywhere – ”

“You promised.”

Castiel looked at Dean, helpless against the hunter’s rage. Dean walked past him, fists stiff at his side as he made his way back to the Impala.

“I’ll find him, Dean,” Castiel called to his back. “I’ll find him.” The angel let out a long breath, watching Dean leave. “I’ll find him,” Castiel said again, this time for himself. He flew to rooftop he had seen the vermin, unable to do anything as Sam was snatched by their hands and taken away. The angel looked at his palm and made a fist with it. “I’m coming Sam,” Castiel said. The wind took his words away and he wondered if it would carry them to Sam. He worried for the hunter, for what could vermin made of sin want with a man? _With wings_ , Castiel realized. Perhaps the creatures sought the one thing they could not possess – wings.


	26. Breath

Sam cried out in pain, his body arching into the air. Eyes wide, mouth open, Sam felt like his nervous system was lightning. His wings flapped uselessly against the ground, unable to do anything but momentarily blind the beings in the room as they glowed unnaturally bright. Sam screamed again, the top of his head and heels the only things actually touching the ground for a moment. His vision went black. His chest expanded slightly, he felt one –two –three ribs crack. Splinters pierced the organs, blood seeping from them.

Pain became all he knew.

When it finally did stop, Sam collapsed on the ground, breathless and sightless. His heart beat too fast; he wasn’t getting enough air. Sam struggled to move, to do anything, but all he could do was lay there, exhausted. His body shattered in pain, each small breath sharpening the sensation.

“They’re his,” a voice said above him. “No doubt about it, the human sprouted soul wings.”

“How?” another voice asked. “This makes no sense.”

Sam gulped another breath, his body jerking as random electric impulses sparked in his brain, forcing the muscles to clench and jerk. His wings flapped again, trying to help him stand, but he had no more strength. The wings flopped against the ground like the rest of his body. He breathed shallowly, heart slowing.

Sam knew what dying was like, he knew the sensation well. And just because Death was dead didn’t mean the Reapers stopped their work.

Suddenly, a familiar sound reached Sam’s half dead ears. Wings…followed by the soft angelic whispers that accompanied Castiel in certain moods. Still blind, Sam relied on his muffled hearing. Castiel smote once, twice, three times in quick succession while Sam struggled to keep his heart beating, forcing himself to listen to everything.

“Sam,” Castiel said, voice breaking slightly. Familiar hands gripped him just a bit too tightly on Sam's injured body.

“Cass,” Sam forced out with a breath. He could feel his heart beat, skip two beats, and then give a half-try.

The whispers came back, along with a familiar piercing noise. Castiel’s hand pressed gently over Sam’s heart.

Sam sucked in another breath, body rising from the ground again, only this time it was because life was pouring into him from Castiel’s hand. Sam’s sight returned and when his body fell back to the ground, he looked up at the angel. “Thanks,” he breathed weakly.

Castiel’s worry lessened only slightly. He put his other hand on Sam’s jawline, looking deeply into his eyes. “I almost lost you again,” Castiel whispered. Sam’s wings tried to wrap around the angel, but only managed to rise halfway before falling again, their unconscious will just as weak as Sam’s consciousness.

“What were they?” Sam asked.

“Vermin,” Castiel spat viciously. “Creatures born from the first sin. They are supposed to all be dead.” The angel shifted, casting a look at the bodies. It had taken Castiel three hours to track the creatures to the abandoned hut on the other side of the country and another twenty minutes to tear an opening through the barrier they had erected around building - and even then it was just big enough for him to fit through. Castiel dared not think what would have happened if he hadn't gotten through in time.

Sam took in a shaky breath, bringing Castiel's gaze back to him. The hunter was exhausted, staying conscious by sheer willpower alone. Cass flew them back to the Bunker, settling Sam against his bed. “Rest Sam,” Castiel said. “I’ll watch over you.”

Sam breathed a thanks, his head on his pillow, his fingers becoming entwined with Castiel’s. The hunter managed a smile before welcoming the black wave that was swelling to meet him, his lover’s hand still on his chest, breath steady now.


	27. Don't like it

Castiel let out a long breath in relief, assured Sam was alive and well. He closed his eyes, not quite ready to leave Sam. The hunter’s heart beat steadily under Castiel’s palm and his wings were curled slightly, soft and unscarred.

“So you found him.”

Castiel took another breath, looking at Sam’s relaxed face before turning to look at Dean. The hunter was extremely drunk, leaning against the doorframe with an almost finished bottle of whiskey in hand. Nose and cheeks red, his other hand in a fist so tight his knuckles were white, Dean stared at the angel with glassy eyes. It had been a long time since Castiel had seen Dean this far gone. The angel stood facing Dean, but stayed beside the bed. “Yes,” Castiel replied.

Dean gave a single nod before sniffing. “He okay?” the hunter asked, waving a hand toward Sam.

“Yes.”

Dean sniffed again and nodded. He looked at Sam for a long moment before taking another swig from the bottle. Dean let his hand relax, his fist turning into a shaky hand. 

“I don’t like it,” Dean slurred, eyes back on Castiel. “I don’t like any of it.”

Castiel was silent.

“I don’t like him sprouting wings,” Dean continued. “I don’t like mystery monsters snatching him. I don’t like the damn fact he can fly and I’m stuck on the damn ground.” Dean finished the last of the whiskey. “I can’t protect him up there. I can’t run fast enough, I can’t –”

Dean sniffed again, this time fighting back tears.

“I understand,” Castiel said, meaning it. No one else could know the fierce love Dean had for his family besides the angel. “Even I can't –”

“No,” Dean interrupted. “Don’t tell me that. Tell me you’ll protect him. Like you did me.”

Cass nodded. “I’ll protect him,” the angel said.

Dean gave another nod before leaving, stumbling toward his room. Castiel followed, making sure the hunter didn’t trip. Dean didn’t notice, dropping the empty bottle in the trashcan before falling heavily on his bed. Castiel watched him, wishing he could help the hunter and knowing he couldn’t.


	28. Saved

Sam woke, opening bleary eyes to find Castiel staring at him. The angel was standing beside the bed, hands tucked in his coat pockets. Sam smiled and mumbled.

"What?" Castiel asked, unsure he had heard the hunter right.

"You saved me," Sam repeated, his wings lifting to wrap over Castiel's shoulders. "You're always saving us."

Castiel shook his head. "Not always," he replied, guilt weighing him much more than Sam's wings ever could. 

"But you do," Sam insisted, waking more. "You saved Dean from Hell. You saved us when all of Heaven wanted to kill us. You saved me from being Lucifer's vessel in the Cage." 

"I gave my own body to be his vessel," Castiel corrected, voice mournful. "And we all know how that ended." 

“No,” Sam said, sitting up. “Lucifer would have killed us all in that cage. You sacrificed yourself for us. And then you saved me again when Lucifer tried…” Sam swallowed hard, trying to beat back the memory of Lucifer’s touch on his soul as he forced himself on the hunter.

“You saved me,” Sam insisted.

Castiel sat down beside Sam, draped by the hunter’s wings. “Alright,” the angel agreed before resting his head on Sam’s shoulder and putting his arm around Sam’s waist. “But you’ve saved me as well.”

Sam smiled and wrapped his arm around Castiel’s shoulders. “Glad we got that settled.” He let out a small laugh which brought a smile to Castiel’s lips.

They sat wrapped around each other in comfortable silence.


	29. Warrior

The room was full of light. Dean squinted against it, feeling useless holding a mere pistol. Sam was in the cent of the mansion dining room, glowing so bright it hurt Dean to look directly at him. Sam was a flurry of steel feathers and bare fists, his own pistol spun to the floor during the start of the ambush. He fought with a fierce precision that reminded Dean of Castiel in his glory angel days.

They had been tracking this family of pureblood werewolves for two weeks now, learning of the empire they had created, and had slowly but surely ganked all but the main family. All that remained were these ten werewolves.

They were no match for Sam.

Bodies fell to the ground. They were thrown into the dining table. They crashed into the walls. Dean managed to get a few shots off when some of the werewolves staggered away from Sam, but he was just mop-up duty at this point. Sam struck hard and fast, twisting away from claws, teeth, and blades like he was the wind.

It all lasted less than five minutes. The head werewolf, half turned back into human, fell to the ground, his heart struck through by the tip of Sam's left wing. Sam looked around, found Dean, and grinned. Dean gave him a half smile before shouting, "You done yet ya damn showoff?"

Sam laughed before stretching his wings to full length and shaking them hard. Blood splattered the room further as it came off Sam's wings. Then he dimmed, and night returned to the room through the large, mostly shattered windows.

Dean's vision still swam with light and he pressed against his closed eyelids with the back of his hand before looking up again. Sam was picking up his coat, which he had shrugged off during the last few seconds before the ambush.

"Maybe next time I should just let you do the fighting while I stay home with a beer," Dean said as Sam walked toward him. "I'm feeling about as useful as a lighter in a fire these days."

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. "You'll still come with me. You love hunting too much."

Dean looked down at the bodies before grinning. "Yeah."

Sam chuckled again. "I'm just glad I've got the hang of this now," he said, shifting his wings a little closer to his body.

"Yeah. You looked like Cass. Guess he's taught you everything he knows."

"No," Sam replied with a smile. "There's still a lot to learn. There's always more to learn." 

"Nerd."


	30. Snow Kisses

Castiel breathed out, watching his breath collide with the cold air to form a long but fleeting cloud before him. He sat on the stone wall, oblivious for the most part of the cold as he wrapped himself with his wings and looked out at the world. Winter's firm hand had made it's presence known the night before, leaving two feet of snow on the ground. Castiel had cleared a space on the wall, but left most of the snow untouched, marveling at the beauty and stillness of the world that always seemed to come after snowfall.

Then there was the soft noise of feathers. Castiel smiled at Sam, who settled beside him holding a cup of coffee in his hands. "Good morning," Sam murmured softly.

"Good morning," Castiel said before wrapping his wing around Sam.

Sam pulled his wings against his body, cloaking himself as Castiel had. He looked out at the world and sighed softly. "Isn't it beautiful when it snows?"

"Earth is always beautiful," Castiel replied. "But I do love it when it snows."

Sam sipped from his coffee as they watched the birds flit from tree to tree, the silence between them easy. 

Then Castiel slipped a kiss between Sam's sips. Sam smiled and returned the kiss, coffee cup forgotten in his lap. 

There they stayed, the angel and his human with wings, content.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's DOOONNNNEEE! YAY! Well, I hope y'all liked it. Thanks to those who stuck with me until the end. I know what it's like. I almost gave up on me too. Thanks to everyone who has (and will...maybe) given me kudos and written comments. It means a lot that someone else likes my writing enough to leave something nice. Anyway, many hugs!


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